Chapter 11

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Aiden

Bree maneuvers her big car into a brand-new housing addition that's been freshly cut from the forest. Some of the completed wannabe-mansions stand against the falling sun. Wooden skeletons of other houses under construction fill up more of the lots. Mercedes are parked on some of the new driveways. I'm right. Bree's family must shower themselves in hundred dollar bills.

Bree parks in the driveway of an expensive two-story house with a large flower bed that has zero flowers. She flashes a reassuring smile, but her face says the opposite. Bree's nervous about this dinner, too. I follow her to a gold, stained-glass door that opens into this huge entryway. A flight of walnut-colored stairs leads up to the second floor. A circular, crystal light hangs next to a large skylight at the top of the ceiling.

A woman enters. Her sandals clip-clop across the polished-wood floor. Her hair is long and dark like Bree's. The woman smiles. "Welcome, Abe."

Bree raises her eyebrows. "It's Aiden, Mom."

"Oh, my apologies, Aiden. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, I'm good."

Mrs. Mayflower escorts us to the kitchen, where there's no dinner table, only a big center island with four empty plates. A strong scent of broiled steak flavors the air and makes me hungry. The kitchen itself opens up into a cavernous living room with both sections making up one huge room. The big windows in the living room show the large forest surrounding the Mayflowers' small backyard.

Bree shows me the couch and switches on the satellite television. She excuses herself to help her mom in the kitchen. I flip through channels and end up watching this show about prisons in Russia.

I catch some movement in the backyard.

What is that? It intrigues me enough to stand up and look through the glass window. I see a large man in a business suit standing on the porch. His chest is wide and thick like the front of a semi. A beard covers the man's face, but I can see his eyes as they glare in my direction.

Is he a burglar?

Before I can act, the massive intruder opens the back door and rushes inside. "Who are you? Why are you in my house?"

I jump over the couch, stumble over a table, and almost take out a lamp, before grabbing the light shade and setting it back up.

"Daddy, no!" Bree races into the living room like a blur and stops the man in his tracks. "This is Aiden. I invited him for dinner."

The man looks me over. "Invited who for dinner?"

"His name is Aiden, and he goes to school with your daughter. Isn't that nice, dear?" Mrs. Mayflower appears and kisses her husband's cheek before shooting him a look that says something, but I have no clue what.

Mr. Mayflower sighs. "What a relief. I thought that..." The large man stops himself and loosens the tie on his suit. "Someone want to explain what's going on here?"

Bree and her mom exchange looks. Mom nods and guides Mr. Mayflower into another part of the house.

I start breathing again. That was intense.

Bree flashes this embarrassed smile. "That's my, dad."

The Mayflowers gather around the kitchen island. Mrs. Mayflower takes out three steaks, their sides blood-red with a thin brown crust on the top and bottom. Doesn't that need more time in the oven? Guess Mrs. Mayflower isn't much of a cook. She gives the undercooked steaks to her family and then moves to a second oven, where she takes out a fourth steak. This one looks medium-rare, which is still too raw for me.

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