The Truth About Us

Her phone alerted her to another text, but she ignored it, praying her mother forgave her and hoping she wouldn’t be grounded for all of eternity. Or worse, arrested.

She stepped toward the second set of double doors but paused. The lock had been busted, dangling like a fallen soldier from the handle of the door.

Her hands shook like an earthquake as she reached out and pulled the door open, and Abby gasped.

Looks like someone beat her to it.

HER HEART SLAMMED INTO a panic as she stepped inside into the reception area. She stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the shattered glass glittering on the carpet in front of her, like a sheet of broken ice.

The sound of her harsh breathing filled the silence as she stood there, staring. Several beats passed before she could move again. Shaking off her shock, Abby trod carefully over the broken glass, avoiding the giant shards and cringing at the crunch under her sneakers like gravel. She cocked her head in front of the opening to Mr. Klein’s office, listening for sounds of the intruder.

Hearing nothing, she stretched her right leg over the sharp daggers of glass, careful not to cut herself. A cold sweat dampened her clothes. Her eyes soaked in the files strewn across the room, his desk a virtual tornado of paperwork.

The hairs prickled the back of her neck as she moved behind his huge mahogany desk and noted the smashed computer screen and the hard drive pummeled into a pile of twisted debris.

Abby concentrated on her breathing, trying to kill her rising panic.

In. Out.

“Bright side. Bright side. Bright side,” she repeated. There had to be a dang bright side!

Well, at least she didn’t have to worry about how she’d get in, she mused.

Okay, Abby, just breathe, grab your file, and go.

She closed the gap between her and the wall of filing cabinets behind Mr. Klein’s desk. Opening them, she quickly determined they were in alphabetical order by last name, so she opened the drawer marked ‘A – F’ and flicked through the folders.

...Galveston, Greg, Griffin, Godden, Gumby, Guttridge...

Abby frowned, sure she must’ve missed it. Starting at the beginning, she looked for her grandmother’s file again, being sure to go through every folder in case it got misfiled. Again, nothing.

Impossible.

She stepped back from the cabinet as her eyes scanned the room. She searched the scattered files on the floor, the papers on his desk. It had to be there. Yet, even as she frantically turned over every paper, every folder, and every corner of his office, she knew she would find nothing.

GG’s file was gone, and with the hard drive of his computer smashed, there was virtually no record she was ever even a client there, with the exception of whatever information Klein may have backed up somewhere.

Abby gnawed on her lip as her stomach lurched. A coppery taste coated her tongue. Blotting her lip with her fingers, she pulled them away and realized she had bitten them so hard, they bled.

With a groan, she gripped her hair by the roots and sunk down into Mr. Klein’s chair.

A horrifying realization swept over her.

GG’s letters.

Whatever letters may be left were probably now gone, along with any other evidence or information Mr. Klein may or may not have regarding GG’s secret.

Tears stung the back of her eyes as she tried to come to terms with her situation. Someone had wanted those files so badly they stole them.

Someone other than Abby.

She covered her face with her hands, just as the sound of crunching glass and footsteps approached.

She froze at the sound. All the blood drained from her face, pooling in the center of her chest where her heart worked overtime to expel it.

When she lifted her gaze, Mr. Oliver stood in front of her, dressed in his uniform, his gun at the ready as he pointed it at her with wide eyes, blinking with recognition.

He lowered his weapon, shock replacing the adrenaline from seconds ago as his mouth pressed into a thin line. “You again.”