The Truth About Us

“I think we wait a night or two. We need to mull this over, plan our next move. Maybe it’s time we just go straight to your grandfather, see what he knows?”

“Nuh-uh. Besides, I already tried that, remember? It got me nowhere. He totally shut down. And we can’t tell him everything. GG, and even the old guy with the journal, both told me to tell no one, and I already broke that rule by telling you,” she said, her gaze frantic. “Now Cammie knows part of it, too. I can’t tell anyone else. What if he knows nothing, and the whole key thing and Newberry are just a coincidence? He said he has memories with GG in Newberry. They very well might. And he may have been replacing a key. Maybe that’s where they keep those kinds of things. I mean, it’s not unheard of. People use those hideaway key things all the time! And people get paranoid as they age.”

“True,” Kaden said, though the way he hesitated told her he didn’t entirely agree.

“Or maybe he’s searching for answers, too,” Abby speculated.

“I think that’s more likely, but if you don’t want to approach him about it, then, fine. We still have a lot of things we need to look into, and they might lead us to what we’re searching for in Newberry. We can call the Departmen

t of Justice in the morning and see what we can find out. We can call Anna Gutman, too. If this has to do with family, heritage, or history, and she is a long-lost relative, she might have the answers without even knowing it.”

Trying to ease her doubts, she turned onto Kaden’s street and nodded. “You’re right. We need to talk to her next.”

When she pulled over to the curb in front of Kaden’s house, he reached out and grabbed her hands. In her peripheral, the lights of the car behind her flashed as it passed them, but she barely noticed as Kaden intertwined her fingers with his.

“We’ll figure this out, and then you can move on with your life, but Abby...” He looked from their clasped hands into her eyes. “You need to slow down. I can see how much pressure you’re putting on yourself over this. If it’s too stressful, maybe it’s best to give it a breather.”

She swallowed and pressed her head back against the headrest. Kaden shadowed her movement and leaned closer, while Abby fought back tears of frustration.

“You’re probably right,” she murmured.

Reaching out, he brushed her cheek with his thumb. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, showing his emotion. “In your grandmother’s letter, she said she made the wrong choice. It’s not up to you to fix her mistakes. Whatever she found and didn’t address isn’t your responsibility to finish.”

“I know. But it feels like—”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sound startled them apart.

“Kaden!”

Abigail’s hand flew to her chest, and her eyes widened.

Mr. Oliver stared at Kaden from outside his window. Rain plastered his dark hair to his forehead, and his face contorted in anger.

Kaden paled. “Oh, crap.”

THE SECOND KADEN OPENED the door, his father started in on him. “I thought I told you no going out tonight? How could you be so irresponsible?”

Even in the dark, Abby noticed the way his gaze darted in her direction, the way his eyes took her in, assessing. If he thought she was trouble, he’d be right. Skipping school, sneaking out of the house, wrapping him up in something potentially dangerous. How far would she drag him into her family drama?

Kaden stood in front of his father, hands shoved in his pockets. The sudden urge to jump out of the car and defend him wound itself around her like a vice, and despite her inner voice warning her to keep her mouth shut, she threw her door open and rounded the car.

“It was my fault.”

Mr. Oliver turned to her, warning in his eyes.

“I-I convinced him to come out. I needed help and—”

“Where were you?” His father demanded, ignoring her.

Abby tensed, her muscles stiffening. Would Kaden tell him?

He met his father’s gaze head-on, his jaw locked in determination. “I can’t tell you,” he said.

His father flinched. Several seconds passed as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish, obviously unused to defiance. Even Abby had to admit it took gall to be so blunt.

“You can’t tell me?” Mr. Oliver clenched his jaw so hard, Abby thought it might crack. “I told you over and over not to get involved with anyone, especially not her, that it was a bad idea. First, skipping school and snooping in old murder cases. Now you’re sneaking out of the house? She is nothing but trouble.” He gestured toward her, seething. “And you think you get to have secrets now? That you don’t need to tell me where you were or what you were doing?” He shook his head in disgust as he locked eyes with Abby.