He put it on speaker. “Ford?” he cried.
“Hey, Griff,” his uncle said, voice heavy. “I’m betting you’d like to be here right now, yeah?”
Griffin scrubbed a hand over his face. “Oh, man, yes. I was about to look for a flight when?—”
“I got you one,” Ford said. “It leaves in two hours.”
“Of course, you did. Thank you so much.” A wet, broken laugh escaped him.Uncle Ford is a miracle worker,he mouthed. But then he stiffened—remembering he had a wife now. I could see it on his face. He opened his mouth.
I made a slicing motion across my throat.
“Hold on, Uncle Ford.” He hit mute.
“This isn’t the time to tell them,” I said. “And you should tell your parents first, not your uncle. You go. I’ll find a flight and meet you there tomorrow.”
“You’re sure?” he asked, looking torn—like leaving me behind would make him a bad husband or something.
“Absolutely. I’m a big girl. I can get myself to Virginia. This will give you time to focus on James and your family, and then when I get there, we can tell them together.”
“Okay. Yeah.” He nodded like he was trying to convince himself. “That’s a good plan. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
He unmuted the call. “Hey, sorry, I’m back.”
“Let’s not say anything to your parents,” Ford said. “Your mom has enough to worry about, and if she knows you’re in the air, it’ll stress her out even more. Just let them be happy when you show up, okay?”
“For sure.” Griffin nodded. “Thank you, and I’ll pay you back for the ticket as soon as?—”
“Stop,” Ford said. “Not happening. Don’t even try. Just…” He choked on a sob. “Just come home, okay?”
Griffin hung up.
Twenty minutes later, I stood in front of his truck, waving as he pulled out ofourgarage.
Over the past week, Griffin had told me everything about himself. From his anger and bitterness over his brother and ex, who’d kissed right in front of him, to the way he felt like a footnote in the Dupree family story. He’d shown me his awkward teen pictures, which he loathed, but refused to delete because they proved he could do hard things.
And I’d told him next to nothing.
Sure, I’d told him about coming home from school to find my mom dead on the living room floor, a needle still in her arm. And about foster care. I also told him about the night Ileft Laney’s, never to return, and how her hurtful words had lit a fire in me to reach my dreams, no matter how big they might seem.
Who I was rightnowthough? I’d buried. Deep.
The woman Griffin thought he knew was true to herself. An underdog who’d risen above her circumstances to become something much better.
It was all a lie.
But I was determined to make it the truth. Which started with coming clean and telling himeverything.
Right after we dealt with this tragedy.
Chapter Thirteen
GRIFFIN
Ford had texted during my layover to say James was still in surgery. But when I landed in Charlottesville, there was no news. I messaged for an update, but Ford never responded—which meant either he was busy, or James hadn’t made it, and Ford couldn’t bring himself to say it in a text. Either way, I was too scared to call my parents and find out.
The twenty-minute Uber ride from the airport to the hospital was agony.
