I didn’t want to have this conversation with Liam, the same way I hadn’t wanted to have it withMatt.
Matt!
He must’ve talked to Liam. Shared our weirdconversation.
I couldn’t handle this right now. I blinked out of my daze and started toward the door, my strideshurried.
“And, Ness?” Liam calledout.
I didn’t stop. I just kept walking. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I couldn’t takeanymore.
But his voice trailed after me, clanking inside my mind:Remember that how you felt about me hadnothingto do withmagic.
I clamped my hands over my ears—not that it could keep his voice out—and sped up, exiting thehospital.
* * *
That night,over dinner, I asked Jeb about what Liam had told me, because I’d begun to have doubts. Doubts that Liam had planted this story inside my mind to redirect me toward him. He knew how deeply I’d admired my parents’ love, how deeply I wanted what theyhad.
Jeb raked his hand through his thinning hair. “How did you findout?”
“Liam toldme.”
I prodded the shrimp on my plate with the tines of my fork, just pushing it from one side to theother.
“It’strue.”
I whipped my gaze off theshrimp.
“Should’ve seen your father . . . ” He got this faraway glint in his eyes. “Callum was terrified he would lose her, terrified she’d pick Heath, but Maggie never even spared Heath a glance. Your father was her first love. Her onlyone.”
He inhaled a rickety breath and rocked onto his feet, gathering our plates without asking if I was done. He took them to the sink, scraped the rice and crustacean remnants into the bin, then hand washed both platesthoroughly.
“True love is rare, Ness. But Maggie and Callum, they had it,” he added, wiping his hands on atowel.
“Did you have it too? With Lucy. Before . . .everything.”
“I thought I did. Perhaps I did.” He folded the towel, then refolded it. “To be honest, I don’t know anymore.” He set the plates on the drying rack before scrubbing down the sink andcountertop.
My uncle was a surprisingly neat person. I wasn’t sure why I’d assumed otherwise. Because he’d had a staff ofcleaners?
Speaking of . . . “What’s happening with theinn?”
Without removing his attention from the countertop, he said, “I’m trying to break the deal Everest—” His voice caught on his son’s name. He swallowed, which made his Adam’s apple joggle in his scruffy throat. “I’m trying to break the deal he struck with Aidan, trying to prove he wasn’t in his right mind when he struck it. What with Becca’sdeath. . . ”
I hadn’t thought of Becca in a long time. Was Everest with her now? Did people find each other again in the afterlife?Wasthere an afterlife? I scraped off a congealed splash of coconut-curry sauce from the dining table with myfingernail.
“My lawyer believes I have a real chance at dismantling the deal, but he warns me it might get pricey and could take a long time. He also warned me that he got a visit from a colleague yesterday who advised him to backoff.”
I felt my lids pull up real high. “He wasthreatened?”
“You’re surprised? Wearetalking about Aidan Michaels, a man who shot his ownwife.”
My eyes widened further. Jeb knew about Evelyn? Had she told him or hadFrank?
“Are you going to pursue it?” Iasked.
“I built this inn on a parcel that’s been in the family for generations. You can bet I’m going to fight for it.” His tone made me jump. “Michaels has taken enough from this family, don’t youthink?”
