top of the stairs we go left instead of right—away from her master bedroom and away from Rachel’s room. We pass West’s old room and Rachel’s twin Ethan’s room and then come to a stop at a closed door.
“This used to be Jack’s room,” Mrs. Young says. Jack is one of Rachel’s way older brothers. He’s an adult now with his own place. Can’t imagine him returning anytime soon. “And now it will be yours.”
Mrs. Young is a beautiful woman. Blond hair and blue eyes just like Rachel, and it causes me to want to pop out of my own skin when she folds her hands in front of her, sucks in a deep breath, and avoids eye contact. Oh, God, please don’t let her have changed her mind.
“I’m sorry,” I say. Offense is the best defense, right? “For lying to you. About how I originally came to know Rachel and then about how I was a drug dealer and I messed up, but I’m more than that. I’m going to be more than that and if you’ll just continue to offer me this chance I promise I will not screw this up.”
“I was in love with Denny once,” she blurts and I shut the hell up. “But you know that, don’t you?”
I nod very slowly because my brain is swimming. Denny is my father’s best friend, a protector of mine when I had very few real warriors in my life and the reason he doesn’t have a wedding ring on his finger is because of her. Dad told me Denny’s sad story when I was old enough to understand that this woman came to Denny’s bar once a month for years to show Denny pictures...pictures of West.
“When Rachel first began hanging out with Isaiah, did you know who she was?”
I should lie. It’s what I’ve done my entire life, but I don’t. If I’m starting a new Chapter in my life, it should be a fresh page. “Yes. When I walked into Mac’s garage and found Rachel hanging out with Isaiah, I knew exactly who she was.”
I knew she was the daughter of the richest man in town. I knew she was the daughter of the woman a person I cared about loved. The reason why I befriended Rachel? “Rachel isn’t Denny’s child, but I knew he wouldn’t feel right with your daughter unprotected on the streets. Don’t get me wrong, Isaiah could have taken care of Rachel without me, but...”
I lift one shoulder up and drop it. If Mrs. Young was once in love with Denny then odds are she met my father and I don’t have to explain how my reach would have been different from Isaiah’s.
“You know who my father is then?” If she’s going there, then so am I.
Her lips thin out then she nods. “I grew up in that neighborhood. I was once friends with your father and with Denny, but I had no idea who you were until after West found out about Denny. Whenever I saw Denny, I wasn’t interested in learning about the lives of those I left behind. Lots of secrets came out when West learned the truth.”
I raise an eyebrow. That means she’s known I’m Mozart’s daughter since this spring. “Yet you allowed me to hang with your daughter?” Yet she continued to pretend to believe the cover story I had given her so I could be Rachel’s friend. That I was a rich private-school girl...just like her daughter.
“Why didn’t you ever tell Rachel or West of my connection with Denny?” she asks as if I never spoke. “Even after the truth came out, how come you never told them that you knew who I was?”
“Wasn’t my business to tell. Plus I didn’t know you. I just knew of you. Hearsay, even from the people I love, doesn’t equate to gospel truth.”
She tilts her head like I said something profound and that’s when it hits me. Mrs. Young is reading me...just like my father taught me to read others for the truth or for lies. “But you saw to it to look over my son and daughter when they stumbled into your world?”
“Yes. You meant something to Denny once. I watched over them not for you, but for him.”
Mrs. Young plows into me. The hugging type of tackle and I freeze.
“Thank you,” she whispers into my ear. “For taking care of them both.”
Uh... “You’re welcome?”
She pulls away, but keeps her hands on my shoulders. “There are no more secrets