He locked his Bronco and jogged up the walk and up the stairs to the porch.
"Kawehi?"
He called out loud enough that he knew she could hear him, but he didn't hear her reply.
Pallas put his hand on the screen door's handle and pulled it open. He didn't like that she'd left both doors open and unlocked, but it just told him what kind of a state that she was in.
Toeing off his sneakers, he left them on the side next to a pair of slippers that Kawehi used in the yard, and stepped inside. "Kawehi? Are you in the bedroom?"
He knew she was in there if she wasn't in the front room of the house, but he didn't need to ask if she was okay. He knew she wasn't.
No one called back to him. He closed the wooden door and double locked the door.
His heart was aching for her.
She should be happy that Nick was served with the divorce papers. If she was upset, then something more happened.
He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that he'd be there for her through anything.
The floor under his feet creaked a little as he moved down the hall. He wasn't about to rush in and startle her, but he was also walking softly so that he could listen for her.
The silence was stressful.
While Kawehi wasn't nearly as gregarious as her cousin, since he'd been spending time with her, he realized that she was almost always humming as she moved around the house. Sincethe beach day with his team he'd spent hours and hours at her home, whatever worked with their schedules.
There wasn't a note of music being played or the sound of her feet moving across the floor.
He moved into her bedroom doorway and slowly swung the door open so he could see the whole room.
Kawehi was sitting on her bed, her legs crossed, and her cell phone in her hand.
Her hair wasn't pulled away from her face, hanging down on either side, shielding her face from his view.
"Honey?"
"Please, Pallas..." Her voice was thin, shaky.
"Kawehi-"
"I don't want to talk." She kept her gaze down on her cell phone as if she was refusing to look at him.
That was just fine. He didn't need her to look at him. Not yet.
He just needed her to know that he was there.
"Can... can you go?"
He took a step into the room, and she lifted a hand, holding out her palm in his direction.
"I don't... I can't talk. 'kay?"
"You don't have to talk to me, sweetheart. You don't have to say a word. I'm just... I'm worried about you."
She shook her head. He couldn't see that movement, but the long strands of her hair moved a little. "I'm okay."
"Great. Then I can sit here with you."
"I don't want you to..." Her head shot up and he had to hold himself still. Her face was a mask of pain. The tears that streaked down her face were dry in places and wet in others. "How did you know?"
