“I’m not accusing, darling. I’m just curious what all those letters mean.”
“I don’t know,” I admit with a shrug of my shoulders. “I guess I wanted to see if there was something to the names. That maybe if I took the letters and rearranged them I would be . . .” I let my words fade when I’m aware of how nutty I sound. “I just . . . I can’t give up.”
“I would never ask you to give up, but—”
“Let me exhaust this avenue before you tell me I’m wasting my time.”
“Okay.” Stepping back from the topic he continues, “So tomorrow afternoon . . .”
“I’ll be ready. I don’t have much to pack, so it shouldn’t take me long.”
“I was thinking maybe you could get out of here for a while. Go shopping. You have hardly any clothes.”
“You mean spend your money?”
“Our money,” he disputes. “But if you feel awkward spending it, let Davina spend it. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“What does that mean?”
“She once stole my piggy bank to buy herself a rickety pair of roller skates.”
I laugh at his farcical outrage. “So, she robbed you?”
“Pretty much, that unforgiveable twit. I’d been saving that money for a long time.”
My smile dissolves as envy creeps in.
“What’s wrong?”
I take a moment, not sure of what to say when I finally speak. “You really had a happy childhood, didn’t you?”
His face levels out in emotion when he sees the harbored sadness in my eyes. He doesn’t answer me right away until I push him to.
“Yes. I was a happy kid.”
There’s resentment that festers within me, but not for Declan. It’s for all the people who betrayed me and my dad and Pike. I don’t hate Declan because he had a good life, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous, because I am—because it isn’t fair.
“You have all these wonderful stories to share with me, and I have none to share with you.”
“Come on, you must have some good memories with your brother.”
“Honestly,” I start and then pause to grip tightly to the sting of tears that threaten, “it hurts too much to think about.”
“It’s only been a few months since you lost him. Give it time.”
I think of the words he chose: lost him. As if Pike were a set of keys I misplaced. My gut sinks when I think of the ugly reality.
I didn’t lose him.
I killed him.
I doubt that any amount of time will fade away the agony that torments me because of what I did.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “This is why you should get out of the house. You need a break from everything. Fresh air and a little distraction will do you well.”
“Are you going to let me go by myself?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.” I let out a faint laugh. “I’ll call Lachlan.”
“Why don’t you call Davina?”
I set my pencil and notepad down on the coffee table and exhale heavily. “Can I just call Lachlan?”
“Why are you so afraid to make friends?”
“First off, I’m not afraid. And second, why do I need friends when I have you? I’m not one of those girls who has this incessant need to gossip and chit chat about things I find no importance in,” I explain with a shard of annoyance. “Women are vicious and catty, everyone knows that.”
“If that were true, what does that say about you?”
I squint my eyes at him, but he just smirks.
“I’m vicious, but I’m not catty.”
He shakes his head at me. “Do me a favor. Humor me.”
“Why should I?”
“Because she’s practically the only family I have,” he tells me. “She’s a good person. A tad on the bubbly side, but she means well and is trustworthy. I also think it would be good for you to start venturing out—make a friend.”
“I’ve never had friends.”
“What about when you were a child and in school?”
“All the girls were too busy making fun of me. I was teased every day.” I shrug my shoulders as I remember the shame and embarrassment. “I wouldn’t even know how to be a friend to someone.”
He takes my hands in his, saying, “Just be yourself.”
“Well, there’s an idea.” My voice edges on soreness. “Too bad I don’t have a clue who I am.”