Create A Surreptitious Move

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"You can't beat yourself up for not knowing. You know now that's the important thing." He says.

"I'm sorry that Sidney stole from you he was only trying to protect me. Whatever it was I'll pay it back."

"You don't owe me anything. Had your brother told me, I would've given him the money. He chose wrong and if it was anyone else or for any other reason he'd be dead right now." He says. "I'm not going to make him pay for stealing, I'm going to forget about that because what really matters is who set the fire and killed all those people and who's framing him."

"So you believe him?" I ask hopefully.

"No but you do and I believe you." He states.

I pause before deciding to tell him something. "Somebody called me that night and told me that Sidney was dead."

"Ok?"

"If you didn't know Sidney's real name then who did?"

Blaine takes a minute to think. "Maybe you were just his emergency contact in his phone. One of the paramedics could've found it and called you."

I shake my head. "They knew I was his sister, I remember them saying it."

"Do you remember what they sounded like?"

"No." I say. "Do you have any suspicions about who set the fire?" I ask.

"I don't know." He admits.

"Do you think it could be the mole?" I ask.

"If it was that means the mole has been here for four years, if not longer. They'd most probably have more access and be higher up so I'm hoping not."

"But what's the other option? It wasn't Sidney so someone still framed him."

"I wish I had the answers but I don't." He says.

"Me too." I lay down in the bed and pull the covers up.

Blaine continues to look at me.

"What?" I ask.

"You have something else on your mind." He states.

"I'm fine." I say, turning to lay on my side, away from him.

He shuffles behind me and then I feel his hand on my shoulder as he starts to draw patterns.

"Non nasconderti, non da me." (Don't hide, not from me)

"Stop insulting me." I say, not having a clue what he said.

He let's out a breathy laugh. "I'm not." He continues drawing patterns gently on my shoulder. "What's on your mind amore?" (Love)

"I was thinking of my dad." I admit.

"What about him?" He asks.

"He really hated me."

"What makes you think that?"

"He told me so many times in so many different ways but when he was sober he acted like nothing happened and he was a loving dad." I say. "He was drunk most of the time, though. He'd come home in the middle of the night and take his anger out on scaring me."