"Money, Money, Money" [2] G. Hawthorne

25 - poison on trees and weird family relations

Soon enough I was on a plane to colarado. Headed to True north.

With me was Oren, Alisa, Isaac and Lena.

For a while Isaac Lena and I played poker and go fish but got bored.

"Truth or dare?" Lena asked.

"Sure."

"Kayla truth or dare?" Isaac

"Truth."

Oren and Alisa were in a different compartment of the plane, I could blab as much as I wanted.

"Who was the last person you hooked up with."

My head bowed as I remembered that night with Grayson and I.

"Grayson." I muttered.

Isaac and Lena exchanged a glance.

"Isaac truth or dare?" I asked.

"Dare."

"Kiss Lena."

Isaac's eyes widened and he stared at Lena.

"Today would be nice pretty boy."

Something in Isaac snapped at those words.

"Bit needy no amor?" He said teasingly.

"Just kiss me already."

Isaac pulled her into a kiss and after a bit they pulled apart.

They seemed to forget I was there.

"Sooo... I'm gonna give you two some privacy." I laughed.

***************

The inside of the house matched the outside perfectly. The living room ceiling stretched up two stories, with giant beams visible in the rafters. The floors were wood, the walls wood-paneled, and everything—the furniture, the rugs, the light fixtures—was oversized. Fur throws draped the enormous leather sofa—softer than anything I'd ever felt.

A fire crackled in a stone fireplace, and I walked toward it, mesmerized.

"There are four bedrooms on this floor, two at basement level, and two up." Alisa paused. "I've put you in the biggest bedroom on this floor."

I turned away from the fire and tried to make my next question sound natural. "Actually... which bedroom was Skye's?"

The stairway to the third floor was lined with family photographs. It looked almost... normal. The frames weren't expensive. The photos were snapshots. There was one of a much younger Grayson, Jameson, and Xander with their heads sticking out of a tent. Another of what appeared to be a chicken fight between all four brothers. One of Nash with his arms around Alisa. And farther up the wall there were photos of Tobias Hawthorne's children.

Including Toby.

I tried not to stare at pictures of Toby Hawthorne at twelve and fourteen and sixteen, searching for some kind of resemblance to myself. I failed. There was one photo in particular—it was impossible for me to look away. Toby was standing between teenage girls I assumed to be Zara and Skye. It had obviously been taken at True North. All three of them were on skis. All three were smiling.

And I thought that maybe Toby's smile looked a bit like mine.

At the top of the stairs, Lena and I deposited our bags in the room that we'd been told was once Skye's. With a glance back over my shoulder, I closed the door.

"Look for hidden compartments," I told Lena as I examined a wooden chest. "Secret drawers, loose floor panels, false backs to the furniture—that kind of thing."