in one of the boys’ trunks before expelling their last breath. Nae ghost stories in this home.”
“Okay,” I murmur, still shocked.
Nan runs a hand over my tense shoulder. “Or are ya contemplating yer own ghost story? The one ye can’t quite wrap yer brain around.”
“He didn’t kill my momma.” I hesitate.
“Nae. Sweetheart. He didna. Now, I’m gonna mention Erika again.”
I’m stone to her touch.
“Erika honestly just likes to push us all. Wants us to own our beliefs.” Nan pats my shoulder. “Leith would never hurt ya.”
“I know.” My cell phone rings, although I focus on Nan while pressing the away button.
“I didna tell Erika the reason ye’re skittish around clan activities—yer parents and all. But she senses these things. Then she fights us to shed what we’ve hidden. That’s what a clan does. Support each other. But I shielded ye like my own wean.”
Fighting the imaginary vice around my throat, I gasp, “Why?”
“Years ago, I sat ya down, shared how yer adoptive mam continued to keep ya on account that ye’d come into money. I thought either ye had forgiven her, which makes ye an even bigger person than us all, or ye just weren’t ready. How I prayed it was the former.” The glow of the television screen softens Nan’s face and an otherwise daunting discussion. “Had ye told me it was the latter, I know in my heart of hearts that I would’ve not honored yer decision to spare her life. I would have killed her myself. Anyway, yer life had been hard enough. I didna think ye needed more pushin’. So, I protected ye as much as I could.”
I play with a lock of hair, missing Leith fiercely, and missing my parents with all of me. Missing the connection that I could’ve had with Nan all these years. Leith’s mother has been wonderful, but there was always a thin barrier between us.
“I’m lost, Nan. Leith’s always there for me.”
“When I fell in love with Big Brody, I pushed him away too. He was ruthless—a different breed than what was ingrained in me as a child.”
“What happened?”
“He was persistent. I was too fat to outrun him.” She grips the meat on her thighs.
I laugh so hard that tears slide down my cheeks.
“Big Brody showed me a side of him nae other had ever seen. So, I fell hard. Love changed me.”
I ponder her words for a moment. That’s the scary part of falling so hard. Justice suggested the opposite. I’m assuming the same scenario occurred for her and Lance.
She fell too hard.
My father fell too hard.
All I recall are times of elation between my parents, and I can’t refute the love he had for her. So, he fell, smack down on his ass, in love. But what came next for them if my memories are tainted? I need time to think. Though I’ve slept most of the day, I faux yawn and excuse myself from the room.
Walking toward Jamie’s room, I check my iPhone for the missed call. Justice left a voicemail. I listen.
“Hey, Chevelle, Justice here. I left town. I told myself not to call, but then when you left your message, I felt so bad.”
Mia comes scurrying out of the doorway, rushing toward me with such energy I’m knocked back a few paces. Though unsettled, I’m still attempting to listen to the voicemail.
“Mommy, Uncle Cam ordered us pizza! Now, he’s downstairs playing with Daddy.”
“Okay, baby.” Why would Justice leave town?
“Mommy, I said—”
The message ends, lacking further explanation. I run my hand over Mia’s silky tresses. The unruly corks bounce back. “Listen, Mommy’s worried about Justice.” I try calling her number.
“Your friend?” Mia jumps along the elaborate design in the runner carpet.
“Yes, honey.” I huff as the call goes to voicemail. Justice’s voice sounded troubled. I redial the number.
“Mommy, I said, Jake and I bothered Cam so much he ordered pizza! And a pizza cookie with choc—”
“Shhhh!” The call connects. “Justice, are you okay?”
“I should be asking you the same.” Her reply is her usual witty retort.
“I’m fine.”
“Well, I tried you early this morning. I swear I thought I’d never hear your voice again.”
“Where are you?” I ask.
“There was something I didn’t tell you about me, Chevelle.”
Playing with the crown molding on the bedroom door, I find myself focused on her words. Call it intuition, but I can tell something is wrong, and Justice has become very important to me.
“I kept telling myself to leave it alone. Then you called, sounding so distraught. Now I feel like