It’s too easy to forget Everett is a kid, let alone a street kid with tons of insecurities. “This isn’t about you. Mom doesn’t remember you.”
Everett’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again.
“We don’t know why, but we’re hoping talking to you jogs her memory.”
“She doesn’t remember me?”
“Not at all.”
“How? It’s not like you can just forget having a kid.”
“We don’t know. That’s what we need to find out. This isn’t about accepting you or not. That is answered in blood. Nothing will change that. Your place is here with your family. We just have to figure out what happened to Mom. And make the two of you safe.”
“Maybe it’s better that she doesn’t remember me.”
I reach out and put my hand on his scrawny shoulder. “She’d rather die than forget her child.”
“Are you sure?”
“Later, I’ll tell you a story. But for now, she’s in the library worrying.” Dad is probably trying to hold it together. “Just answer their questions as clearly as you can.”
“I’m not going to tell you about them.”
Why did he have to take after the stubborn side of the family? “You know that’s the wrong choice.”
“It isn’t.” His absolute certainty is irksome.
Now isn’t the time to fight that battle. I knock on the door again.
You never know with my parents.
“Come in!” Dad shouts instantly.
I give Everett a reassuring smile and then open the door and walk in.
Mom is back in Dad’s lap with his arms around her. Her tear-filled eyes are locked on Everett. “You’re sure?” she whispers.
“One hundred percent.” I can’t wish my answer was different, because that would mean losing a brother.
Tears pour out of her eyes.
“Everett, how was your mother killed?” Dad squeezes his arms tighter.
That’s a hard question to start with.
“They shot her in the heart, then in the head. I watched her bleed out on the security feed.”
A double tap sounds like a military hit. How many times has Ethan said ‘double tap to get the job done’? Dozens, maybe hundreds of times.
“Do you think that was faked? Because Temperance has no scar. Not a single trace on her head or heart.” Dad’s hand moves to her heart.
The boy shrugs. “I didn’t see any signs of tampering, but it’s possible.”
“Did your mother have any scars? Any moles?”
Everett taps by his ear. “Three moles just here like I do. And a scar about one inch long on her spine. That’s where they implanted her tracker.”
Implanted a tracker! Not that I haven’t thought about doing that a time or two for Hope, but still. This has all the military vibes. “Do you have a tracker?”
