The Truth About Us

Kaden stared out at the street. “It’s not the creepy uniform or the photos or journal, but after everything we found today, I can’t help but feel like we’re missing something. Something huge. It’s right in front of our eyes, and we’re not seeing it.”

“Exactly. I’m hoping she’ll help us put the missing pieces together.”

“Maybe,” he said, sounding unconvinced. “But maybe not. Even if she is somehow his long-lost cousin, what would she know of this secret we’re trying to uncover? If it has to do with Irma Mentz buying your grandfather land and blackmail, do you really think she’ll know about it? She hasn’t seen him since they got sent to the camps. And if she’s not related to him...?”

Abby threw her hands up in the air. “Well, what do you suppose I do? Forget about it? Not even talk to her? It’s at least worth trying. It’s the next step, another clue. We’ve got nothing else to go on right now. Until we get another letter, this is all we’ve got.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m sorry. I—”

“Kaden!” Sophie burst through the front door, coming to a halt in front of them. She tugged on the bottom of his t-shirt. “Daddy’s went into work, so you’re watching me. Miss Marie’s been inside waiting for you, so she can go back home.”

“Soph, I was talking. Interrupting is rude.”

“It’s okay,” Abby said, with a wave. “I see you recovered.”

“Yup,” Sophie flashed her a toothy grin below her rosy cheeks. “You can come too, if you want, but you’ll have to sneak into the house once Dad’s gone.”

Abby stifled a chuckle as Kaden glared at his sister, but she didn’t even seem to notice as she kept chattering, throwing questions at him like baseballs. “Can we play hide-and-go-seek tonight with flashlights? Or freeze tag? Or—oh, Dad said we have to go over to Miss Marie’s house again for baths.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, but Kaden frowned back at her. “Wait, I thought Dad worked a double yesterday. Tonight, he was supposed to be off.”

Sophie shrugged, her little shoulders pressing upward. “He took an extra shift, and the power’s out again, so we have no hot water, which also means no TV, so you have to play with me.”

Abby glanced to the neighboring houses, checking for signs the electric had gone out. Light shined through the windows, and the sound of the television next door trickled outside. Hooking a thumb toward the noise, she glanced at Kaden. The question teetered on the edge of her lips, but his face turned blood-red before she could get the words out. Abby’s stomach sunk with knowing.

“Fine,” he said, pressing a palm to the small of Sophie’s back, nudging her toward the door. “We’ll play whatever you want. Just head in, and I’ll be right there.”

When she disappeared inside the house, Kaden’s eyes traveled over their surroundings—the neighboring houses, his driveway, his lawn, the street—everything but her, as he said, “I guess I better go.”

“Wait.” Abigail reached out and grabbed his arm. “Why is the power out?”

“Nothing. It’s fine.” Kaden plucked her hand off his arm and pressed his lips gently against her palm before turning to head inside, but this time, she blocked him with her body, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Kaden, what did she mean?”

“Occasionally my dad gets behind. That’s all.”

“Behind?” Abby asked, frowning.

“With the bills.” Kaden exhaled, his shoulders slumping with the movement like the admission cost him. “It’s no biggie,” he said and shrugged, then cleared his throat and added, “He always gets it turned back on. Sometimes, it just takes him a few days. It’s fine.”

“Kaden, I—”

“Please. Don’t say anything. I don’t...” The muscle in his jaw worked before he continued. “I can’t have you feeling sorry for me. It’s too humiliating. Okay?”

She swallowed with effort, her throat like sandpaper. “Come over to my house.”

“No.” Kaden shook his head.

“Yes. This isn’t me feeling sorry for you. I can’t help it that my family has money, okay? I don’t care about any of that. I never have.”

“That’s because you’ve always had it. You’ve never had to care.”

She blanched, and he stepped forward, placing his hands under her arms. “I’m sorry.”

“So, this is how it’s gonna be? Any time our family or our homes or anything at all having to do with where we live or where we come from is brought into play, it’s going to be a game of haves and have-nots?” A humorless laugh bubbled in her throat. “That’s not fair,” she said, stabbing a finger at him. “I can’t help where I come from any more than you can.”

“I’m sorry, b