Savannah’s voice escalates, frantic and shrill, and I’m just about to run in and see who else is in there when her shrieking is suddenly joined by my mother’s.
I stand completely still outside the tarp, to…well, for lack of a better term, eavesdrop.
“You have a lot of nerve, Savannah Turner!” Why is my mother shouting? “I can’t believe you’re even here—that you’ve been here, as if nothing’s wrong. It was hard enough for me to remain kind to you with what I thought had happened. But now?”
“Now what?” Oh hell no. Savannah better snip the snippiness in her tone real quick. I won’t stand for her talking to my mom like that too much damn longer. “Nothing’s changed, Julie. Please, you’re like a second mother to me. I love your family. Can’t you just let it go? Why are you dredging it up again?”
Dredging what up again?
My breathing is ragged and legs shaking, as I’m unsure where this conversation is headed. I know I shouldn’t keep listening; if either of them thought I needed to know, they would’ve told me. But here I stand, firmly in place, hanging on for their next words.
“Savannah, this is Kelly Springs. My last name is Kelly. Eventually, everything in this town comes out, and it always comes back to my family first. It’s one of the perks—or, in this case, drawbacks—of the heritage. You had to know I’d find out sooner or later.”
I’ve never heard my mother speak with the venom that’s coating her voice now.
“I know you knew!” Savannah yells. That’s strike two with disrespecting my mom. The girl is seriously testing my limits. “Sebastian told me he confided in you. He said that’s why you were so on board with him getting out of here for a while. It felt more like you were pushing him away from me, but you’re his mom—who was I to disagree with you? But he’s gone, so again, why are we rehashing this?”
“Because you’re a liar,” my mom states bluntly. I stumble back on one foot, her boldness literally shocking me off balance. “My son told me, all right—what you told him. And now I know it was all lies.”
“W-what do you mean?”
I lean in closer, recognizing the dropped octave and stutter in Savannah’s voice to mean one thing: My mother’s right—she’s definitely lying about something. And whatever it is, Mom’s got her cornered.
“A friend of mine is positive it was Clay who drove you to the clinic. Did you tell Sebastian that part?” Mom asks.
Savannah’s reply is loud and defensive. “No! But only because I knew he wouldn’t take me—wouldn’t support me—and I needed someone to drive! Sebastian would’ve wanted to do the right thing—to stand up and be the man you raised him to be. I couldn’t force his hand…take away his youth. School.”
“Oh, please.” I can hear my mother’s eyes roll—where do you think I got it from? “Kissing up to me will get you nowhere, especially when it’s just with more lies. This was about your youth, not my son’s. He owns his responsibilities.”
There’s a long pause and a heavy sigh before my mother speaks again.
“Savannah…I cared about you, and was prepared to welcome you into our family if you and Sebastian ever became that serious. So why didn’t you give us a chance to be there for you? We all, even Echo, would’ve supported you. You had no right to make such a huge decision without including my son in it; your body or not, he had rights too…unless there’s another reason you didn’t want him to know.”
“I just didn’t know how to handle it, okay?” Savannah replies, her voice low. “But right or wrong, it’s in the past now.”
A sharp pain slashes through my stomach, fear and betrayal facing off in a bitter battle. I’m not stupid, and I have a pretty good idea of what they’re talking about now. But the little things my mom’s insinuating—daring Savannah to admit—are what have the threat of bile making my throat sweat.
God, please let me be wrong.
“You’re right, it is, but explain one thing to me.” This time, my mom doesn’t “speak”—she snarls every word, offended fury fueling the scariest noise I’ve ever heard in my life. “And let’s try the truth this time. Why on Earth would Clay pay for it on his credit card?”
“Uh…um…well—”
Mom stops her from any further bullshit stalling, and says the one word I was praying I wouldn’t hear.
“Abortions cost a lot of money, Savannah. Money young men like Clay, who don’t have much of it, don’t go “loaning” out to abort other guys’—especially their best friends’—babies!”
The angry tears I’d held at bay break free and slowly begin cascading down my cheeks with a prickling sting. My chest aches, my heart breaking for my brother’s loss.
“No, no.” Savannah’s crying now too, but as harsh as it is to think, her feelings mean jack shit to me at this point. “It’s not like that—what you’re thinking. We just both care about Sebastian. We were trying to protect him!”
“Then why tell him at all?” Mom fires back.
Exactly what I would’ve asked. My ears perk up for the answer.