"Can I ask you an uncomfortable question?"
Quin's expression sharpens, his brows furrowing slightly as he searches my face for any hint of distress. "Of course, darling.” His fingers trace sedating circles on my back. "You can ask me anything."
"It's about Alison," I begin hesitantly. He frowns. “Do you… Do you know what happened to her body?”
Quin stiffens. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s not me.” I swallow, gaze flicking over Quin’s shoulder. “Damon wants to know. He wants… Well, we both think it would be nice to give her a proper funeral.”
“I see.” Quin nods, his features uneasy, not fully transparent. “I believe she was in the ambulance en route to the hospital when she passed away.” He pauses. “After the…transplant, I think she may have been cremated.”
“What do you think happened to her remains?”
Guilt crosses his features. “I’m not sure. I-I wanted to find out but…but I couldn’t risk exposing Damon and our families.” He pauses, clearing his throat. “But I can ask around the hospital. The remains may have been passed down to the state.”
The thought slips past my lips with no authorization. “Or thrown away.”
Quin's face pales. “It’s possible. Jonathan had friends in high places. Based on the lack of accident or police report, I’d assume he paid off everyone involved.”
My gut clenches. “I’m surprised he even called an ambulance to begin with.”
Quin swallows. “It wasn’t Jonathon who called an ambulance.”
I narrow my eyes.
Quin runs a hand across the nape of his neck. “I believe it was a random pedestrian. A tourist.”
“Jesus…”
“People do crazy things for their children,” Quin sighs, and I can hear the regret in his voice. “It took me years before I could look my father in the eyes.”
I glance over Quin’s shoulder toward the living room. “He tried to protect his son, and in the end, he ended up hurting him even more.”
Quin's shoulders sag. "Sometimes, the things we do out of love end up causing the most pain.”
“Hey.” I reach out, laying a hand on his arm, hoping to comfort him. "You did what you thought was right, given the circumstances. I think… I think you did what I would’ve done.”
Quin's jaw tenses with unspoken pain as his gaze searches mine for something I can't quite figure out. "I'll find out as much as I can before I go to Texas next week.”
I lift a brow. "Texas?"
He replies too quickly, the words spilling out almost rushed. "I have a study I need to observe there. I'll only be gone for a day or so."
I ignore the nagging feeling of unease in the pit of my stomach. Or at least I try.
"I see..." I hum. “Well, I hope you get the results you were looking for.”
Quin swallows, giving me a forced smile that does little to alleviate my suspicions. "I’m going to go upstairs and run us a bath. Something tells me we all need to relax a little.”
I return the smile, though it doesn't quite reach my eyes. Just like his. I hate that I can feel the tension between us. I want to let it go. Let it fade back into unblinking love. We both know better than to dwell on the what-ifs or could-bes. They tend to fester and grow into something more.
“That sounds nice,” I say, refusing to succumb to the fear of the unknown. “I’ll be up shortly.”
Quin squeezes my hand, and disappears upstairs.
I sigh and turn on the faucet again, but no matter how many dishes I wash, I can’t scrub away the feeling that there's more to this trip than he's letting on.
But for now, I'll trust him, just like he's trusted me.
