𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 - rafe cameron (obx)

𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣.

I grin from ear to ear. "Well, if you insist."

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶　　　　　　 ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

The two of us walk beside one another in between gorgeous mansions, not doing the judging we had planned on. Instead, we walk in peaceful silence.

"So," says my grandma, "where have you been, Stella?"

Uh oh. Here we go. From my many many years of living with her, I've learned that there is absolutely no point in lying to my grandmother. She always knows.

"Well... uh... for the past few days, me, Pope, Kie, JJ, and this girl named Sarah have been trying to clear John B's name, and a lot of shit happened, and it just took a lot of time. I'm sorry."

Grandma rolls her eyes. "Young lady, you're gonna have to give me more details than that."

I sigh and tell her everything, step by step, detail to detail. When I finish, she doesn't look at me.

"That sounds fun. I was similar to you when I was your age, you know," she says, only amusement and curiosity in her tone. "Always getting into the most ridiculous situations with my friends, ones we never asked to be in."

I stop walking and look at her. "What? You're not mad?"

She laughs. "Of course I'm not mad, hun. You were helping your friend. I would do the same if I were you."

"Really?" I say, astonished. "Wait, so do you believe John B is innocent?"

Grandma scoffs. "I don't believe it, I know it. You wanna know how?"

I nod.

"Well, number one: I know John B Routledge. He sat at my dinner table night after night after night, making me laugh like my brother once did. He may not be perfect, but he's no murderer."

I smile. "Thank you, I'm so glad-"

Grandma lifts a finger up. "Ah!" She says, shutting me up. "I'm not finished."

"Sorry. Please continue."

"Number two: I was a cop, back during when they didn't do it for the money, but for the values. For helping others and making sure this island is as safe as can be. I already have good intuition, but that experience strengthens my certainty.

"Finally, number three," she looks at me. "I know you. And I know I raised you to trust only those who are trustworthy and to love only those capable of loving you back the same way. So there's that."

She finishes, smiling at me. "You understand?"

I smile back at her. "Yeah. Thanks."

I almost tell her about Rafe and explain everything going on there, but before I can, she opens her mouth.

"What happened to that boy who was supposed to stay with us?"

"Oh, his family let him back in," I quickly and impressively lie. "Any other questions?"

"Yeah. So, who did kill the sheriff?" She asks me. I gulp.

I can't tell her that I let a murderer into our home hours before he became one. I can't tell her that her raising me to 'trust only those who are trustworthy' failed.