“Because I wanted it to be true. I wanted so badly to believe I had been a victim. Because I hated myself for what I did, and when I met your grandmother, I fell in love. At first sight. And selfish or not, there was no way I could tell her the truth and risk losing her. Maybe I’ve been a coward, but those crimes I committed, the role I played in the war, feels like another lifetime ago. That’s not me now. I vowed to live a respectable life. To provide and contribute something good to the world, and I did. I gave the world your mother, which gave the world you.”
“What about Greg Lawson? Did you kill him, too? And McBride?”
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head like he didn’t understand. “Who?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense. With everything else—”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I don’t know any Lawson person. Was he a Jew?”
“No.” She searched his eyes for her answer but found none.
His forehead wrinkled in confusion as he struggled to find words. “If he was at Auschwitz, I—”
“Never mind,” she said, holding a hand out to stop him. “Do you know anything about me being followed? Perhaps someone sneaking into my room, going through my things? Breaking into Mr. Klein’s office?”
“Someone’s following you?”
Abby said nothing. She nodded her confirmation, waiting.
Her grandfather turned his gaze to the ground. His forehead furrowed with wrinkles before he glanced at her again. “You’re sure?”
“I think so,” Abby said, doubting herself. Had she been imagining the man? Maybe this whole thing had made her paranoid? “I’m positive about Mr. Klein’s office. I saw it for myself.”
“I would never do something so foolish and risky. I’ve lived my whole life with this weight on my shoulders, but why would I risk exposing myself now?”
It made sense. She wished it didn’t, but it did, which meant someone was still out there. Someone who either wanted this kept secret or wanted answers as much as she did. Lawson’s murder, the man following her, and Klein’s break-in—whoever was responsible for those things was still at-large.
Abby took one last look at her grandfather. Her head throbbed with the weight of everything he said—all the right words, yet not nearly adequate. She wanted so desperately to cling to the notion he was a changed man. Her desire to believe the things he said were far greater than the truth. But desire could be fickle and selfish. Maybe some things were unforgivable. Some broken fences could never be mended, and as she sat there, she asked herself, not for the first time, how GG had kept this a secret. If she had even a notion of who he really was. How had she gone on loving a man with so much blood on his hands?
Maybe Miss Mandie was right. Maybe deep-down Abby knew what to do.
Actually doing it was another thing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Abby walked among the pink dogwoods, the flowering pears, and lush mounds of perennials in bloom, both her heart and head a mess. Finding a spot on the wicker loveseat amongst the flowers, she sat across from the clear aqua waters of the swimming pool, feeling the weight of guilt press over her despite the beauty of her surroundings.
Settling back, she tried to push the image of her grandfather from her mind—the way his hand shook as he lifted a forkful of cake to his mouth at dinner or how he blew his candles out. His pale skin and his bloodshot, emotion-filled eyes when she confronted him for the second time, and the way his skin webbed around them from stress.
Her heart ached at her situation. No one choice ended well.
She inhaled, taking in the sweet scent of lilac and wishing it would soothe her like it had as a child. She longed for Kaden—for someone to talk to, for someone who knew even the slightest bit about her secret. Even more, she wanted the boy who teased her. The one who remained strong in the face of his insecurities. The one who loved his father enough that he tried to please him for so long but had the courage to recognize his own needs these last weeks. He stood his ground. He took a risk when he saw something he wanted—Abby—and he had somehow wriggled his way into her heart. He hadn’t opened it up so much as he had wormed his way in through a crack in her defenses.
She wanted to share so much more with him—everyday things—rides to school, coffee at Daily Grind, walks in the park, ice cream at Hammer’s, and a swim in the summer. She wanted to enjoy his presence without the heaviness of her family’s baggage or his father’s disapproval.
The thought that some other girl might get to share those things with him ate her up inside, made her blind with jealousy. But Mr. Oliver wasn’t the only reason she stayed away. The truth was, she had no idea how he’d handle her secret. Would he be repulsed? Would he distance himself from her? If she was honest with herself, Abby was scared of the answers, and she didn’t know if she could take him looking at her as though she was anything other than the girl he met that night in the park. The one that nearly ran him over with her car. The one he broke the rules with. The one he kissed until she knew nothing would be the same anymore. The girl who captured his heart years ago with nothing but a poem.
She wasn’t the same person anymore.
He changed her. This secret changed her, and she marveled at how so much could shift in only a matter of weeks. How everything could be different.
It was easier this way, she told herself, to walk away now before she got crushed. Mr. Oliver simply provided her the excuse she needed.
Her gaze drifted from the pool to the blooms clustered in every corner of the yard. Awash in color, the purple butterfly bush, pink azaleas, the waxy begonias, and yellow, red, and white roses all formed a trumpet of colors surrounding her, reminding her beauty did still exist, even in the face of cruelty.
She thought of GG, kneeling by her beds, pulling weeds and mulching. She had spent hours out here, sometimes whole days. Abby had hated the arduous task, the monotony of it, but now, she would give anything to have her there again, barking orders.
“What am I supposed to do now?” she asked GG, glancing up at the sky, squinting in the sunlight.