He makes a duh face like he always used to when we were younger, and in spite of nothing being clearer, I feel a little lighter.
"What are we going to do about Cory's offer?" I ask, to which Beau shrugs.
"No idea."
"Do you want to do it?"
"Buy the team together?" he checks, and I nod. "I don't know… We have a lot of baggage."
"And memories. Good ones. Lots of them."
"Yeah, but…" He stops himself from saying whatever he was about to and deflects with, "What about you? Do you think it's a good idea?"
"I do. It's left of field, for sure. But it makes sense if you think about it. We’re obsessed with football. We'd bring complementary skills to the mix. And we both agree that Gilberton needs this shitting team to happen. I think you and I could achieve great things. We've already achieved great things before, so why not again?"
He gives a slow, steady nod, letting my words sink in. "True. But first—" His brown eyes lock onto me, sharp, sure, and displaying no signs of the nervous kid he used to be. "You need to speak with your father."
"What do you mean Dad's unreachable?" I screech at Sabrina, having dropped by her office at the resort after Beau and I left the abandoned fire tower.
"He and Mom are yachting with the Johanssons, remember?"
"Clearly, no. And what, that means they're unreachable? Don't they have Wi-Fi? Isn't that dangerous?"
"They'refine," Sabrina replies, eyeing me curiously from the other side of her sleek black glass and steel desk. "They've got VHF, a satellite phone, GPS, AIS, and an emergency beacon."
"Just no way for their first and favorite child to contact them." I slump into the chair with a tired breath. "Just shitting great."
She snorts, letting the dig about me being their favorite slide. "What's gotten into you? Why do you need to reach Dad all of a sudden?"
I tell her about Cory's offer, but it's not until I mention the conversation I just had with Beau that she starts fidgeting, like she's suddenly uncomfortable. Or nervous. When I tell her I need to speak with Dad to find out how and when Beau gave him the letter, her face goes white.
"You okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost."
She clears her throat, but it doesn't dislodge whatever is stuck there, so she reaches for her lavender steel water bottle and chugs down a few gulps.
"I'm fine," she says, wiping at the corner of her mouth.
"You're lying."
"What? No, I'm not."
"Then why are you messing with your ponytail?"
"I'm…not," she says, dropping her hand like she didn’t realize she was doing it. She avoids direct eye contact for as long as she can then lets out a heavy sigh. "It happened such a long time ago. Can't you just leave it alone?"
"Leave what alone?" I snap upright. "What are you talking about?"
She pushes away from her desk and moves over to the windows overlooking the main pool area, standing with her back to me.
"There was no letter," she says so quietly I'm not sure I heard what I think I just heard.
"What?"
She turns around and repeats herself, louder this time, and, yep, she said it.
"So, if there was no letter, what was given to me?" She turns away again, so I spring out of my chair, reaching her in seconds. My heart is pounding strong enough to crack a rib. "What is going on here?"
Guilt crosses her face, and it only makes me even more determined to get to the bottom of whatever this is.
