“I didn’t want to accept my dad at first,” he murmurs, tucking his hands in his pants pockets. “I couldn’t understand why he wanted me. I figured he’d change his mind.”
I nod, “that tracks.”
His brow furrows slightly. “How?”
“You don’t move like someone who’d come into this life easily,” I say, gesturing lightly around us. “You notice things too much.”
He studies me for a second, then nods once. “Yeah, it’s true. I didn’t let myself get attached to this home for over a year. I waited to be sent back to foster homes. But he never did, he waited me out, met me every step of the way. It took until I was twelve before I called him dad. It was my birthday; I’ll never forget his face. I think he was happier at my birthday than I was.”
I study him more carefully now, watching as he speaks, watching the way his shoulders stay slightly tense even while recanting a good memory. I watch the way his eyes track movement out of the corner of his vision. The way he-
“You’re hiding something.” The words come out before I can stop them.
He stills just long enough to make me even more suspicious. “No, I’m not.” He answers too quickly, basically automatically.
I cross my arms. “Alex.”
“Liv-” he starts to sound dismissive but I’m not having it.
“Don’t,” I cut in. “Don’t do that thing where you act like I’m imagining it.”
The muscles tense along his jawline.
“I’m not imagining it,” I continue. “You’ve been off since we got here. More than just what the situation should comfortably cause.”
He goes silent, which tells me that not only am I right, but that I’m onto something here. I take a step closer. “What aren’t you telling me?”
The question hangs heavily between us for a moment. He looks at me hard. For a second, I think he’s actually going to say it. Whatever it is. I see the resolve in his eyes.
But then, “it’s the case.”
And just like that, the resolve is gone, replaced with something easier. I stare at him a second longer. Then nod, letting it be. “Right.”
I don’t believe him, not completely, which scares me more than anything else right now. Up until now, he’s been the one thing that felt solid in all of this. He’s been the one thing I didn’t have to question.
Now I’m not so sure.
We stand there in the quiet garden, surrounded by beauty that doesn’t feel real anymore, feeling something subtle shift between us. It’s undeniable, like a crack forming beneath the surface.
I don’t know if this is something we can fix because it already feels like something is breaking.
Chapter 35
Alex
Dad’s library smells more like leather than books or wood despite the walls being lined floor to ceiling in large, solid wood shelves and stacked to the brim with books.
I used to hide in here as a kid. Not because it was comforting but because it was quiet and dark. The dark stained wood keeps the whole room dimmer even with a large window. It was this room that set me on the path to being a detective. I used to sit in the window seat and read procedural police books on repeat. I think I read everything in here about the topic at least a dozen times. I’m sure Dad thought it was strange for a preteen, and then later a teenager, to be reading something that heavy but I found a lot of solace in knowing that things could be fixed in the world by just being and doing the things needed. I was too young and naïve at the time to understand that not everyone who gets to that point in their career actually abides by it, but at least there’s some.
Now the window seat is occupied by someone else, Pip. This isn’t the first time I’ve found him napping in here since he and Liv got here a few days ago. Wilfred making sure that there were a set of stairs for Pip to get into the window definitely helped. I can’t get over how much he seems to like that cat.
“Your mind is elsewhere.”
I glance up as Dad walks in, watching me over the rim of a glass with something amber in it, and sits down in one of the maroon leather chairs in the corner. He’s giving me that same calm, dissecting look he’s had my entire life.
“I’m here,” I say, like it’s that simple.
“You’re present,” he corrects. “That’s not the same thing.”
