But she would try.
Ben looked at Connor, who eyed Kati. She was the one who piped up. “He’s at the cabin.”
Connor stepped past Akira and picked up the pitcher from the center of the table, pouring a glass. “Have a drink, if you’re driving there now. Your lips are dry.”
Because she hadn’t drunk or eaten anything since the previous night. She accepted the glass, nearly lightheaded with relief. That was it? They weren’t going to torture her some more? “Why did you tell me?”
Connor stared meaningfully at the glass, and she quickly took a large gulp of the sweet, tart drink. “Because he’s already in rough shape,” Connor responded matter-of-factly. “Our main concern is not making him worse. But I don’t think you’ll do that.”
“How do you know?”
“’Cause you don’t look so hot either, Akira,” Ben said sympathetically. “Go see him. Work things out, please. We’ll hold down the fort as long as he wants, but we do miss him.”
Akira drained her glass. She looked at Kati, who merely shrugged. “I owe you.”
“For what?”
Kati’s lips firmed, and she glanced down at the ground. “You must be eager to get going. I’ll walk you out.”
Akira nodded. “I am, yes. Thanks.” She shrugged off Ben’s sweatshirt and handed it to him. “Bye. Maybe I’ll…see you?” Only if things worked out with Jacob.
Please let them work out with Jacob.
Connor murmured his goodbye, and Ben gave her a bright smile. Kati followed Akira up the steep staircase, her flip-flops squeaking on the metal. They were silent until they left the earshot of the men, and then Kati spoke. “That was nice of you, trying to pay me for the box.”
Was that what the girl felt she owed Akira for? “You did have a claim to it, and I’ll give you fair value.”
Kati bit her lip, her steps slow as they walked through the kitchen to the foyer. The colors Jacob had chosen for his home were soothing blues and creams. Akira caught a glimpse of warm wooden antique furniture in the dining room and living room. “Mei used to wear a necklace a lot,” Kati murmured. “It was a delicate gold chain with a starfish on it.”
Akira knew immediately the necklace Kati was referring to. Once Akira had become an adult, she rarely saw Mei outside of parties or gatherings, where she wore flashier though still tasteful jewelry.
But when Akira had been a child, Mei had often worn that simple piece.
“I know it,” Akira replied. “I’ll put it aside for you.”
“Thanks. I’d really like that.”
The suppressed emotion had Akira glancing sharply at the girl. “You loved her.”
“Yeah.” Kati’s lips twisted. “I mean, I don’t think she loved me like a daughter or anything. I don’t think I even loved her like my mother. But she taught me how to put on makeup one day, and we would watch soaps together, and…I don’t know. She could be really awesome. We were kind of close by the end there.”
Akira stopped at the front door. She studied the heavy frames that had been arranged on the walls. No original Monets in them, but the prints were serene watercolors that urged her to curl up in the comfortable home.
“At the end…” Akira said, hating herself for asking, but something within her desperately needing to know. “She was a little softer? Less guarded?”
“She was.”
“Did she talk about me at all?”
Kati flushed to the roots of her hair. This time, it was her turn to study the walls. “Ah, she did but—”
It was nothing Akira would want to hear. Probably things Akira had heard for years when the woman was alive.
There would be no deathbed declaration of love for her. “Never mind. Forget I asked.” The polished brass doorknob turned easily in her hand.
“I called you a slut, you know.”
That brought her to a halt. She cast a glance over her shoulder at the teenager. “Excuse me?”
