Liam propped his hands on his hips. “Look. I confronted her about it when Griffin first brought her home, and she basically admitted it.”
“You outright asked her if she was a prostitute?” Holden asked.
“Well, no. But it was heavily implied, and she didn’t deny it. She said she’d changed, and she wasn’t that person anymore. I hope that’s true. But the fact is, it’s what she was.”
Something cracked open behind my sternum.
“No,” Theo said. “There’s no way. Someone like that—you’d feel it on them. But Juliette is pure light, man. She’s… goodness. I’m telling you. She hardly ever swears, and she never talks badly about other people. Heck, I never saw her watch an R-rated movie. It was like she wanted to bathe in goodness wherever she could find it. Shethirstedfor it. You all saw her. She went to church with us every week. And anytime she wasn’t working—which was rare—she’d be curled up, bingeing some show called ‘Road to Avonlea.’ Set in the early nineteen hundreds—frilly dresses and wholesome mischief.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Sophie called. “I caught him watching it with her once.”
“Shush.” Theo released a heartbroken laugh.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Christy said, her voice thick. “That show is one of my all-time faves.”
“Chris.” Holden chuckled, but it sounded hollow. “Not the time.”
“Just saying. It’s a really good show.” I looked over to see Aunt Christy pressing her fingers under her eyes.
Everyone had been crying except Liam, who looked gutted. And Holden, who’d seen so many terrible things in his career as the Commonwealth’s Attorney for Seddledowne that almost nothing fazed him. I’d only seen him cry once—when Aunt Christy sobbed for a week after cutting ties with one of her manipulative sisters.
I looked around. Where were Cash and Charlie?
“You’re wrong about her,” Theo said. “I don’t know what you think you saw, or what you think she confessed to, but there has to be more to the story.”
“Believe it, bro,” Liam said. “She’s a freaking supermodel. She schmoozes some of the richest, most corrupt people in the world. And I hate to say it, but she looked perfectly happy about it.”
I pushed myself up. Everyone turned.
“Perfectly happy about what?” I asked.
“Griffin.” Aunt Christy hurried over. She knelt in front of me and brushed my bangs to the side. “Are you okay?”
“Mom,” Maddie whimpered, hugging her dad. “Of course he’s not okay. None of us are. Least of all him.”
I stood carefully, wiping my nose on my sleeve. “Perfectly happy about what?” I repeated more firmly.
Liam’s head dropped.
“Why do you know anything about this?” I asked him. “Unless you were somewhere you shouldn’t have been, doing something you shouldn’t have done.”
“Griff,” Bowen warned. “Let him tell the story first.”
“Knock, knock.” A middle-aged man entered theroom wearing a burnt orange Fury polo with gray trim, charcoal slacks, and clean white shoes. “Who am I checking for a concussion?” he asked Liam.
Liam pointed at me. “Tall guy with red hair. Griff, this is Dr. Brevik.”
The man walked toward me, pulling a tiny flashlight out of his pocket. “Can you sit so I can check your eyes?”
I sat on the chaise lounge behind me. The light hit the back of my skull like a spike. I jerked away.
He exhaled through his nose and followed my movement, trying again.
I knocked his hand away. “I’m fine,” I growled, about to punch someone. Maybe this guy, maybe Liam. Maybe both. I exhaled through my nose. “Please leave me alone.”
“We’ll keep an eye on him,” Holden said. “Thank you.”
The doctor looked baffled, but he left the room.
