Sins of the Innocent - Jamie McGuire Page 0,44

Grandmother said.

I looked down at the plate. Grandmother had baked potatoes, cut them in half, and then topped it with a perfect ball of cheesy scrambled eggs with diced onion and tomato. On each side were two slices of bacon, garnished with curls of green onion.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

“I don’t think I’ve had a meal like this in … ever,” Morgan said.

Dad came out with the rest of the plates stacked along both arms, and Grandmother helped him place them in front of each setting. Claire and Ryan arrived, ready to eat.

“I could get used to this,” Ryan said.

“Don’t bother,” Claire snapped back.

Morgan made a face, making sure to keep his head down.

“Who’s this little weed?” Claire said, leaning forward. The muscles in her arms tensed as she did so.

Morgan’s head popped up, and he looked to me.

“This is my friend, Morgan. He’s already terrified of you, so don’t try to intimidate him.”

Ryan snorted, and Claire narrowed her eyes at him.

“Excuse me,” Grandmother said, dabbing her mouth with the napkin. She pushed out her chair and then left the room.

We all traded glances.

“Did I offend her?” Ryan asked.

“No telling,” Claire said.

Levi tensed. A second later, Bex stood and walked over to the window, pushing back the curtain, and then I felt it, too. Something was wrong. Something was coming.

Claire looked at Dad and then at Morgan. “Should we …”

Dad shook his head. “No.”

“Wh-what’s going on?” Morgan asked.

“I’m … not sure,” I lied.

Grandmother returned, sitting back down and continuing her meal. Gradually, the threat diminished. Bex came back to the table, and my family and Levi continued to eat as if nothing had happened.

Morgan’s eyebrows pushed up, and then he dug into his breakfast, too.

I wanted to ask what that was all about, but it wasn’t the right time with Morgan sitting next to me. Once breakfast was over, Morgan, Levi, and I made our way to the sitting room, albeit slowly.

“How is your stomach?” I asked Levi.

“Better. Much. How are you?”

“The healing hasn’t progressed as I hoped,” I said, purposely cryptic.

“It just happened yesterday, Eden,” Morgan said. “It’s going to take some time.”

“You know me.” I smiled. “Always impatient.”

Levi narrowed his eyes at Morgan. “How are you feeling, Morgan?”

“Me? Okay, I guess. My chest has felt a little heavy since I got here. I think it’s allergies.”

“It’s a dusty old house,” I said, getting comfortable.

Levi reached out to me, trying to help.

“Oh,” Morgan said, watching us. “Are you guys …”

“No,” I said.

“Yes,” Levi said at the same time.

Morgan winced. “This is awkward.”

“Do you remember the spring dance in eighth grade?” I asked Morgan, desperate to change the subject.

“Yes.” He wiped his brow. “One of the top ten most embarrassing nights of my life.”

“Why is that?” Levi asked, amused.

“I made him ask Anna Evans for a dance.”

“I stepped on her feet the whole time,” Morgan said, leaning over.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

He was paler than usual, and he was beginning to sweat. “I’m just really hot, and I don’t think breakfast is agreeing with me. Maybe I should go?”

“I’ll drive you,” Levi said. “Eden, can I take the Audi?”

“You’re in no condition to drive,” I said. “I’ll get Robert.”

“I’ll ride with him then,” Levi said.

Grandmother’s heels clicked down the hallway, and she walked in, holding her purse. “I have errands to run. I’ll ensure that Robert drops the boy off wherever he wishes to go.”

“Is that okay?” I asked Morgan. “You can stay here.”

Morgan shook his head. “I think I’d better go home.”

He stood, and Grandmother sidestepped, allowing him into the hall. She and Levi traded glances, and then she escorted him to the garage.

“Okay, Levi. What was that?”

He shook his head. “I think he’s sick. Poor kid.”

“He’s not a kid. He’s our age.”

“No, Eden. We are literally eons older than him.”

My lips pressed together in a hard line. “Should someone go with them? Is he in danger? Is Grandmother in danger? Tell me the truth.”

Levi’s eyes danced around the room. “C’mon, Eden. It’s not my truth to tell.”

“Then whose is it?”

He frowned at me and then scooted closer. “We should both be resting. Let me take a look at your ribs.” He lifted my shirt and then peeled back the tape, revealing a light-pink spot that looked more like a burn than the gaping wound from the day before. “It’s healing.”

He gently palpated the area. I winced.

“It’s hot to the touch. You have a bit of an infection. You’re burning it off. You’ll be one-hundred percent tonight.”

“Good to know,”