“Does keeping it a secret hurt anyone?”
Abby ran a hand through her hair, frustrated. “I don’t know,” she said. “Not really, but kind of indirectly.”
She pictured Anna Gutman in her head. It’s the only thing that explained her bizarre reaction. She must’ve recognized her grandfather in the picture that day. What she had to have felt in that moment, Abby couldn’t begin to understand. To know one of the men responsible for the murder and torture of so many people, including her own family, was close by, alive and well, had to be nightmarish at best. Especially if that person was pretending to be family.
“Does telling the secret hurt anyone?”
“Yes,” Abby said. Her parents—her mother, especially—would be devastated; their reputations ruined. Her grandfather would go to trial and be sent to prison. Or worse, be put to death.
“Well, then. Maybe that’s your answer.”
Abby nodded, biting her lip. So, keep the secret to herself. Keep the past in the past. Turning her grandfather in would help no one now. What was done so many years ago was done. Nothing can turn back the clock and change it.
She should be relieved. So, why did she feel sick at the thought?
Abby fisted her hands in her lap. Her nails digging into her palms. “What if hurting someone doesn’t matter? What if telling the truth is the right thing to do no matter the cost? When do you know to choose what is right over what hurts the most? No matter the personal cost?”
Miss Mandie fell quiet. Her emerald eyes ch
urned with unanswered questions as she stared unblinkingly, and Abby sensed a shift in her, a knowing they were not talking about teenage drama, boy problems, or the average secrets teenagers kept from each other but something big. Unthinkable.
She toyed with a pencil on her desk, tapping the end of it over the stack of papers there before answering. “Sometimes, doing what’s right is the hardest thing in the world. Personal sacrifice is a sign of true character. Turn everything off, Abby. Chances are, you already know what you have to do. You simply fear it in your heart. Sometimes, if we stop and listen to that voice deep within, we usually have all the answers we need.”
ABBY DROVE AROUND FOR hours following school. Miss Mandie was wrong. No matter how much Abby tried to drown out all thought, everything around her, her gut told her nothing. It remained silent, leaving Abby a hollow ache in her chest and no clue what to do.
She returned home, discouraged her heart hadn’t spoken to her, other than to remind her how much she missed Kaden. Thankful for her grounding so she could sneak up to her room, she opened the front door, defeated, and trudged her way to the kitchen where she knew her mother would have dinner waiting.
“Abby, we’re in here,” her mother called out, and Abby glanced up, realizing they weren’t at their usual spot at the little eat-in table but were seated in the formal dining room instead.
Abby washed her hands in the kitchen sink, then made her way into the dining room with a frown. Covered dishes, along with a giant platter of roasted chicken dressed the table. A giant layer cake with fluffy white frosting towered over the basket of rolls.
Abby motioned to the giant dessert. “What’s the occasion? You win a case or something?” She glanced between her parents, hearing the flat sound of her voice but unable to muster any enthusiasm.
Her mother’s answering frown said it all. “No. It’s your grandpa’s birthday.” Her eyes darted to her grandfather. “Dad is eighty-eight. Can you believe it?”
“Oh, gosh. Right.” Abby scratched her head, wondering how she could get out of this.
She stole a peek at her grandfather. The conflict she felt inside raged like a churning sea, and the last thing she wanted was to celebrate anything, let alone him.
“Well, I know GG’s not with us, but we need to be thankful for the people still in our life,” her mother said and reached across the table, giving her grandfather’s hand a squeeze.
Knowing there was no way out of this, Abby sunk into an empty chair. At that moment, she wished he had died instead of GG. Things would be so much easier now. She could’ve remembered him as the man she loved her entire childhood, instead of seeing him as the man she hardly knew
A creeping sensation crawled up her spine. She could feel his eyes on her but hadn’t the strength to acknowledge him.
Her mother waited until Abby was settled and poured herself a glass of ice water in the crystal goblet in front of her before raising her wine glass in a toast. “Bill, you want to do the honors?”
“Of course.”
Her father raised his glass, as did her grandfather. Abby was the last to comply, lifting her water as her father said, “We’ve had a tough go the last few weeks, but Yoel, we’re all so grateful we have you, and we hope you’ll consider staying here permanently. You’re the best father-in-law anyone could ask for. You were always such a great grandfather to our daughter, and I happen to know from my wife you were a dang good father, as well.” With a flash of pearly whites, he turned to Abby. “Anything you wanna add?”
Abby froze. What could she possibly say when she was so entirely mixed up inside? Thanks, Grandpa, for lying to us for our whole lives? Thanks for changing from the monster you used to be? Thanks for keeping such a colossal secret from us? Thanks for the totally messed-up bloodline?
She swallowed, then cleared her throat as her grandfather continued to stare a hole right through her. She shook her head no.
“Come on. Nothing sentimental to say?” Her father sighed and glanced at her grandfather. “Apple doesn’t fall too far from the grand-tree.”
Abby’s gaze flickered to her father. He chuckled. He was joking, of course. She knew this, yet his words were like daggers, and she felt every bit of pain from the wounds he unwittingly inflicted as he lifted his glass in a final toast and cheered. “Here’s to Yoel!”