Chapter Seventeen
“The word is—innocent.”
Grady placed the card on the table and we all stared at it for a minute. Sterling was the first one to break shock by laughing.
I tried really hard not to laugh and my effort twisted my lips into purse mode. “Is this damn deck rigged?”
It got everyone going on the laughter train and Butler shook his head. “The cards were weeded out at the beginning of the tour, darlin’. Suck it up and put out a card.” He placed one of his own down on the table with a smile. “Pun absolutely intended.”
I rolled my eyes and glanced over my cards again. We were supposed to be pairing whatever card matched best but—I found the perfect one and slapped it on the table. It had absolutely nothing to do with innocent but was an ironic twist on the word. “There. Now I’m going to get something to drink.”
“I’ll come with,” Sterling said. As she stood up, she pointed at Grady. “You better pick my card, Sinclair. You owe me.”
He saluted her. “I’ll do my best.”
What did he owe her? From what I could piece together, he’d called her sometime this morning asking her to bring my luggage to the hotel. It wasn’t much of a chore considering the way she’d sneak in a smirk when she thought I wasn’t looking. I could always count on Sterling being on my side but I knew she wanted me to be happy. Problem was I wasn’t as convinced as she was that Grady was my avenue to happiness.
She followed me into the suite’s kitchen and we both glanced over the beverage selection. On one side of the island, sodas were packed into ice filled bowls while hard liquor and plastic cups occupied the other.
“So—”she started but I waved a hand to cut her off.
“Don’t.”
She let out a groan. “Come on, Page, spill.”
“Spill what?” Karen asked as she stepped up next to Sterling.
Sterling looked at me and raised an eyebrow. An obvious question whether she could continue the current interrogation she was attempting conduct. I briefly shook my head and she nodded. No way did I want Karen in on this.
“Spill about the picture Grady posted of Emory on Twitter last night.”
“Wait.” Karen faced me. “You were here last night?”
I nodded and picked the only remaining green tea. “Emory wanted to watch a movie and I wasn’t tired.”
“So you saw him do that—thing? What exactly was it he was doing?” Sterling asked while digging out her phone to show Karen the picture. “I had no idea he could do that! Hell, I didn’t know anyone could do that.”
She had to have the picture saved to her phone because there was no way apps came up that fast. Karen looked over the picture, unimpressed, and turned her attention back to me. “You were here?”
“Yes,” I said with more patience than a saint. “I was here. Last night. Would you like me to clarify anything else?”
“Considering the way you acted at the bar, I didn’t think you’d—”
“Who in the hell put down ‘a cheap motel’?”
I stayed focused on Karen even though it was my card. The game could wait. What was going on a few feet from us paled in comparison to what she was about to tell me.
“I told Carrington,” she whispered. “When we got back to the room, he asked a bunch of questions and I couldn’t keep it from him anymore.”
No apology for spilling my biggest secret. No regret at all.
“Course you couldn’t,” I managed to get out.
She wasn’t loyal to me. Not anymore. I was surprised she’d made it this many years without telling her husband what had transpired those few months after the band left.
“Are you going to tell Grady?”
I tilted my head to the side, considering her. I’m not a malicious person by nature. I get along with everyone but—that had to be the stupidest question ever. I’d spent years keeping this secret, agonizing over it. What made her think I was going to tell him now? What would it accomplish? “I don’t know about you but I’m not in the business of hurting people on purpose.”
“He’s going to find out, Page. Don’t you think it would be better if you told him the truth before someone else does or he finds out on his own?”
“Karen—”
“I think you should tell him, Page,” she insisted. “He has a right to know.”
This was the same argument we’d had before and after it happened. She’d pushed the subject when the time wasn’t right and I’d snapped at her. Yelled. Thrown things. She’d backed off and thus began the downward spiral between us until finally she’d put our dying friendship out of its misery.
I stared at her, hard. “It’s my truth to tell.”
“If you start dating him, someone is going to figure it out.”
“And who says we’re going to date?” Why did everyone assume this was going to continue after the reunion?
It was her turn to whip out the phone. Several minutes passed and then she was waving it in my face so fast I couldn’t see what she was trying to show me. I grabbed her wrist and looked.
Hard.
A tasteful picture of a woman’s side sat on the screen. It spanned from the shoulder down to just below the hip, a sheet covered the lower bits while an arm hid the top. It was beautifully done and if I didn’t automatically recognize my stretch marks, I’d like it. Honestly, I didn’t know how to feel about him posting a picture of me…that you couldn’t tell was me. He must’ve taken it during one of my sleeping moments.
Did the man never sleep?
The caption attached was a set of lyrics, ones that made me blush, and hash tags.
Bliss in a body like you wouldn’t believe, Happiness written in her skin times three #gettingthere #amhappy #thisblessedfeeling
I scratched my neck, trying not to get irritated or flustered. Letting these people back into my life was a leap of faith. So far the results were mixed and the latest development hasn’t helped.
“It’s got like fifty thousand likes and over three thousand comments. One guy even said ‘Nice to see you with a real woman, man’. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are paparazzi swarming the hotel by morning. Hell, ET even did a piece speculating who the woman in the photo is. You need to understand something, Page. Grady only dated once after the divorce. Him posting this picture on the public profile is monumental.”
Not to mention it was an invasion of my privacy or done without my permission. By why list those details?
I looked from the picture to her. “And how do you know it’s me?”
She frowned, drawing back the phone to look at it. “Isn’t it?”
Before I could answer, my device started making noise in my pocket. Saved by technology. For once! I took it out, knowing exactly who was calling. My ex’s face in a tiny bubble glowed up at me.
“I have to take this.”
“But—”
Sterling held her back as I started making a beeline for Grady’s room.
“Page!”
“Pagie!”
“Did you put down cheap motel?!”
I waved off the calls from the guys and disappeared into the bedroom. With a deep breath I hit the green video button. My picture shrunk and went to the right hand corner, making way for a pixilated version of Brett’s grinning face.
“Mommy! You’ll never believe what Daddy is doing!”
Oh god. I sank down on the end of the bed. “Hi, buddy. What’s Daddy doing?”
He moved the phone so I could see his father working on the computer. Nothing I hadn’t seen before but what was going on with his head was definitely new. I squinted, hiding my surprise.
“What—is that?”
“Donna is bleaching Daddy’s hair!”
Oh. My— “What?”
“Yeah! Doesn’t it look weird?!”
“Um—weird is a good way to describe it.”
There was a knock on the door and I looked up in time to see Sterling creeping in. “Close the door,” I whisper-hissed.
She gave me a sympathetic look before doing what I asked and crossing the room to sit next to me. Every night they’d called, she’d spent a few minutes talking to them too.
“Hi, Aunt Sterling!”
“Hi, munchkin!” she cooed. “How are you?”
“Look what Daddy did to his hair!”
He tilted the camera again and I watched as Sterling’s eyes grew two sizes bigger. “Wow.”
At the sound of her voice, Brett’s Dad looked over and rolled his eyes. “Sterling.”
“Hi,” she said civilly. “Get lost in a bucket of bleach?”
He ignored her and said to his son, “Take that in the other room, please.”
“But—”
“Now.”
“Fine,” he whined. “I’ll go find Harlow.”
I wanted to reach through the screen and hug him. Their father wasn’t horrible but he had his priorities all scrambled up. Sterling wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze in reassurance.
The screen went dark as Brett left the room and for a second I was worried. “Brett?”
“Hold on.” He sounded fed up. “I have to find Harlow. HARLOW!”
“What?!” she screeched back.
Sterling started laughing. “God, she’s just like you.”
Harlow came into view and I smiled. She was curled up on the couch in her My Little Pony pjs, hair wet from a shower.
“Hi, darlin’.”
“Hey,” she said in that soft voice of hers. It only got loud when she was mad—or annoyed.
“Sup, kiddo,” Sterling said.
Harlow spared her a glance. “Hi, Aunt Ling.”
“Whatcha up to?”
“Hey, you’re supposed to be talking to me,” Brett quipped before turning the phone to face him. “Talk to me.”
“Yeah?” I said to placate him. “What’d you do today?”
He smiled. “Nothing.”
“That is not a nothing smile. That’s a something smile.”
There was another knock on the door and both Sterling and I looked up to see who it was. Butler stuck his head in, frowning. He mouthed what’s going on?
“What are you looking at?” Brett asked.
Boy didn’t miss a thing.
“Uh, noth—”
“Is that the munchkins?” Butler asked while power walking into the room without asking. “Let me see.”
I started to shake my head when Brett said, “Mom?”
I sighed. This was going to be—Emory was next to show up in the doorway. “Good grief,” I muttered. “It’s a party.”
Butler was leaning around Sterling to look at the screen. “Hey, man!”
Brett stared. “Mooom?”
“Kids?” Emory asked.
I rolled my eyes and nodded. “Want to say hi too?”
“Mooom?”
Emory jogged over and plopped onto the bed behind me to get a look. “Hey!”
Brett looked confused as hell. “Who—?”
Butler reached between Sterling and I to grab the phone right out of my hand. “Butler!”
“Hey, little man. I’m a friend of your mom’s. From college.”
“Really?”
Butler turned on the mega-watt smile. “Yup. When you’re older I’ll tell you stories.”
“No you won’t!”
I tried to reach over to take the phone but Emory batted me away. “My turn!” Butler handed over the phone. “Sup, man!”
Oh my god this was a disaster!
“Hi,” my son’s meek voice came through.
“I’m Emory. And you’re Brett, right?”
“Don’t freak him out, Emory,” I warned. “Give it back.”
Without comment or question the phone was returned to me. My son had his anxious eyes on. I was surprised he hadn’t ducked out of the picture or handed it off to his sister. He was shy around new people, a complete contrast to his usual personality. Once he got to know you, he was wide open.
“Are they really your friends?” he asked.
Sterling snorted before laughing. “Term used loosely, little man.”
“Yes,” I said to cover. “They’re some of Mommy’s old friends.”
Emory bumped my shoulder and I could see his smiling face over my shoulder in the view window. “We’re taking care of her. Promise.”
Brett considered it for a minute before nodding. “Ok.”
Butler butted his way in. “So what are you up to?”
“Nothing.” He turned his head, looking at his sister. “Harlow is watching Scooby Doo.”
“Definitely your kid,” Emory murmured. “Newer or old?” he asked my son.
Brett frowned. “The one that’s on Netflix. Duh.”
Butler busted out laughing. “Definitely Page’s kid. I’ll talk to you later, little man.”
He got up from the bed and with a look at me, he left. I had no idea what that was about but I’d have to ponder over it later. I glanced over my shoulder at Emory and raised my eyebrows, expecting him to leave too.
“Oh no. I want to meet the other one too.”
“Emory—”
There was movement from the screen and when I looked, Harlow’s TV illuminated form came into view. “Say hi, Harlow,” Brett demanded.
She glanced away from the TV, fully expecting no one important to be filling the screen, but when she caught sight of Emory, her full attention was on the phone.
“Hi.”
I caught the look of surprise on Emory’s face before it softened. “Hi. I’m Emory.”
“Hi, Emory,” she said again. “Give me the phone,” she said to her brother. “I want to talk to him too.”
“But I’m not done.” Brett turned the phone back to himself and he was scowling. “Wait your turn.”
Emory dropped his forehead to my shoulder and started shaking with laughter.
I rolled my eyes, not able to hide my smile in order to be stern. “Don’t be mean to your sister, Brett.”
“But it’s still my turn!”
“I know,” I soothed. “Doesn’t mean you have to be mean.”
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. What are you doing?”
“Talking to you. What are you doing?”
“Talking to you.” He smiled.
“What’d you have for dinner?”
“Um—” He frowned and looked at his sister. “What did we have for dinner?”
She sighed really loud. “Chicken and dumplings. You didn’t eat it, member?”
“Right.” He looked back at me. “I had biscuits.”
“All you had was biscuits? Brett—”
“Don’t be so hard on the kid. That’s a complex thing to eat, chicken and dumplings.”
My son beamed and I glared at Emory. “If you’re going to be here, don’t start the backseat parenting.”
Brett giggled. “Mommy. Don’t be mean.”
Emory pointed at me and started laughing. “Yeah, Mommy. Don’t be mean.”
I was about to tear into him when the sound of Grady’s quiet voice stopped me. “Leave her alone, Emory.” All of us looked. Well, all of us that could. Grady was leaning against the doorframe, scowling at his band mate. “She’s talking to her kids. Come on. Leave her be.”
“Who’s that?” Brett asked.
I looked back down at the screen, lost for words, and he looked expectant. I knew if he didn’t get an introduction like he did with the rest of them, he’d be disappointed. But how exactly do you go about introducing someone like Grady? Did I want to introduce him to my kids when I knew they’d never see him again? I had a rule when it came to situations like this: never bring someone around unless I knew they were going to stick around. Fielding questions from Harlow and Brett about if they were going to see a friend of mine again wasn’t fun. I’d made the mistake before and I didn’t want to do it again.
That was before Emory and Butler barged their way into my call, however.
“That’s Grady,” I said and looked back up at the man. “Come say hi.”
He looked worried. “I don’t—”
“Let me see!” Brett whined. “Mooom!”
I waved Grady over. “Come on.”
Grady looked skeptical. “Page—”
“Come on, Sinclair,” Sterling chided while getting up. “You can have my seat; I’ve seen his face since he was born. Emory, let’s go.”
“Yup.” He popped into the camera again and smiled at my son. “See you later, kid.”
“Bye. Bye, Aunt Sterling!”
“Later, little man. Sleep tight.”
They both exited the room, leaving Grady to make his way over, which he waited a few beats to do. You sure? he mouthed.
No, I wasn’t sure. In fact, I was certain this was a very bad idea.
“Mommy.”
I broke eye contact with Grady and looked down at the screen. “What?”
“Who is it?” he insisted.
“Well—”
The bed dipped next to me and Grady wrapped his hand around the back of mine. I looked at him and he was waiting for me to say it was ok. He was nervous. I could see it in the tightening of the skin around his eyes. This was a big thing for him and I understood why. They were my kids and even though he’d probably seen pictures of them before, this was different. It was him seeing them and them seeing him. The problem of “getting attached” could happen to Grady too. Because in an odd, ‘what if’ sort of way, they could’ve been his kids. If he’d stayed.
When I nodded, he turned my hand so he filled the view. His face softened and warmed. His eyes even twinkled.
“Hi.”
Brett smiled but he pondered Grady for a few seconds before saying something. “You’re Grady?”
Grady smiled and nodded. “And you’re Brett.” When my son frowned, Grady added, “Pag—your mom told us—everyone—me about you. And your sister.”
“She does that a lot. Are you an old friend of Mommy’s too?”
Grady’s hand tightened on the back of mine. Since he was sitting on my right, I was able to curl my hand around his thigh in reassurance.
“Yup.”
Brett nodded. “Cool.”
They drifted into silence for a bit, a little awkward, and I couldn’t help but laugh on the inside.
“So your mom tells me you draw.” Grady had busted out the ‘so’. Ha!
Brett beamed, not ashamed at all. “I do! Mom, did you show him my picture?”
Grady turned the phone in my direction and looked at me with wide eyes.
“Well—”
“Do it! Now! Grady! You have to see it. Mom!”
“Ok! Geeze!” I got up to grab my luggage, suddenly glad Sterling brought my suitcase over. I hadn’t unpacked, thinking I shouldn’t stay another night here. Things were complicated enough and now that I knew Grady had posted a picture—I wasn’t sure what to do.
“You didn’t unpack?” Brett asked.
I looked over and found Grady had turned the phone in my direction so both of them could watch me.
“Something happened with your Mom’s room so she had to move to another one,” he answered after turning the phone back to face him.
“What happened?”
I snorted, laughing quietly. Grady needed some schooling on how to deal with kids.
“Nothing serious. She just needed to switch.”
“Like what?”
I decided to rescue him with the drawing. I reached over Grady’s shoulder and dangled it in front of his face. “Here.”
Grady took it out of my hand and drew me back down next to him. Note to self: don’t leave Grady alone until he was comfortable. Wasn’t he ever alone with Carrington and Karen’s kids?
“Wow.” Grady’s eyes darted all over the paper. He flicked them to the screen and smiled before studying it some more. “This is good, bud.”
“Thanks!”
“Brett! Time to brush your teeth. Give the phone to your sister.”
Grady tensed at the sound of his voice and I did what he did to me earlier. I covered the back of the hand holding the phone and turned it towards me.
“Ok! Coming!” Brett looked down at the screen and infinite disappointment covered his face when he saw it was me again. “Aw, Mom. I wanted to say bye.”
“Did you forget I was your mother?”
“No.” He smiled. “Gotta go. Love you. Love you too. Bye, bye! Bye, Grady! Here, Harlow.”
The phone was turned over to my daughter who was engrossed in the TV. She didn’t even look at the screen and by the way Grady was staring, I was thankful. If I thought he’d been in awe of Brett and his drawing—Grady was entranced by my daughter. His spine straightened and his eyes were unblinking.
He was taking it all in, as much of it as he could as quickly as he could.
“Harlow,” I called. “Hey, kid.”
“Hi,” she muttered.
“What are you watching?”
There was a lengthy pause before she answered, still with her eyes fixed on the TV screen. “A movie.”
“Which one?”
“Scooby da Doo.” She glanced down at the phone and the corner of her mouth lifted. “He’s ah—he’s ah—he’s solving a mystery about the, ah, the ghost guy. They’re running around.”
How very generalized. “Ghost guy, huh?” She nodded. “What’s his name?”
She shrugged. “I dunno.” She started giggling. “He just ate Shaggy’s sanwich.”
I glanced at Grady who was still staring but was now also smiling. “Yeah. I get that.” I looked back at her. “But, hey, honey, can you turn it off so I can talk to you?”
“I can pause it.” She started looking around. “Where’s the clicker?”
Grady bumped my shoulder. “I know,” I muttered. It’s a remote, not a clicker, Page.
“Mom, Brett hid the clicker. I can’t pause it.”
“Did you look—”
“DADDY!” Her screech cut me off. “Brett hid the clicker!”
“Did not!” I heard Brett call out. “It’s on the end table!”
She looked. “Oh.”
Somehow after that, I got a bird’s eye view of the ceiling. It lasted way longer than necessary. “Harlow.”
“Sorry, Mommy.” The phone moved again until she was staring right back at me. “Hi.”
“Well, hey there, sunshine. Long time, no see.”
She giggled. “You silly, Mommy. What are you doing?”
“Playing Apples to Apples with some friends.”
“What’s Apples to Apples?”
“It’s a word association game.”
“Oh. Mommy? I need to talk to you about somefing.”
“Yeah?”
“Umhmm.”
“Go ahead.”
“Brett says, he says that you’re, um, that you’re coming home in two days. And I told him that can’t be right cuz you said two days yesterday.”
“I did say two days yesterday.”
“Then when are you coming home?”
“Tomorrow is my last day. I’ll leave the next morning.”
“Tomorlow morning? You’ll be home tomorlow?”
“No. I’ll be home the day after.”
“The day after? Aww! But that’s so long away.”
“Not too long. How are you doing? You being nice to Daddy?”
“Yeess.” She rolled her eyes and they caught onto the little bit of Grady’s arm showing in the picture. “Who’s that?”
I glanced at Grady with eyebrows raised. Was he ready? He shrugged.
“This is a friend of Mommy’s. Say hi.”
I turned the phone to include him. If I thought he melted for Brett, what he was doing now was an entirely different thing. It only got worse when she smiled at him. “Hi.”
He was quiet for a bit before getting out a quiet, “Hi.”
Then she got a good look at him and she did that weird not meeting my eyes thing when she whispered as if he wasn’t still sitting next to me, “Mommy, isn’t that—”
“This is Grady.”
She blushed and looked down. “Hi.”
“Hello, Harlow. It’s nice to meet you.”
Her head dipped lower. “Uh-huh.”
“Hey,” I said. “Where are you going?”
“You didn’t tell me you were friends with him, Mom.”
Oh, lord, she’d busted out the ‘Mom’. “I knew him in college.”
“Don’t lie to the girl. We met before that,” Grady said.
I frowned at him and then it dawned on me. “Oh. Yeah.”
“You did?” One eye peeked back up. “Really?”
Grady nodded. “I ran into her on the playground in fifth grade.”
That got him her whole face and she was frowning, obviously not getting it if he was being serious.
“Like when you and Brett ran into each other in the hallway last month.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, that’s not very nice.”
“No, it wasn’t,” I agreed. “So—”
“I sing too,” she blurted out and then covered her mouth when she started to giggle.
Grady glanced at me but I didn’t look back. “Harlow.”
“What? He sings, I sing too. We have somefing in common.” She grinned. “Cool, huh?”
“What do you sing?” Grady asked.
“Um—Mommy, what’s the, the ah, the name of that song that I sing?”
I started laughing and Grady bumped my shoulder. “Don’t laugh at her.”
“I’m sorry. Which one are you talking about? You sing a lot of songs.”
“You know the one that goes like…” she started humming as if I was supposed to know the title, which I didn’t. But Grady did.
“What a Wonderful World?”
“Yes! We learned it in music at school. And we even had to draw what the lyrics were about. Me and Maelaya had the night and day one. It’s my favorite.”
“Yeah? Maybe you could sing it for me sometime.”
“Grady,” I said under my breath.
“Ok,” Harlow chirped.
She was about to say something else when her father called, “Time for bed, Harlow. Tell your mom goodnight.”
She looked up at him. “Don’t you want to talk to her?”
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Brett, do you want to say goodnight to your mom?”
“I already did!” he called back.
“Alright. Harlow.”
“Yeah, ok.” She looked down at the screen and smiled at me. “Night, Mommy. I love you.”
“Love you too, baby. Sleep tight.”
“Ok. Bye, Grady.”
“Bye. Harlow.”
The session ended and I slipped my phone out of his hand to shut the app down. Weird silence hung in the air for a few seconds, allowing me to fold up Brett’s doodle and put it back in my suitcase.
“She sings?” he finally said.
I nodded and zipped up my luggage. “She also runs like the wind.” I finished and stared at the side of his face. “She was born almost two years after you so don’t go getting any funny ideas.”
“No. I know.” He laid back on the bed and looked up at me. “She looks exactly like you. So does he.”
“I got lucky.” I smiled. “They could’ve been spitting images of their dad which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
“No, it’s not, but it makes it easier on you.”
“It does.” I propped my hands on my hips, a little nervous. “So, now you’ve met them. Unofficially. Are you going to run for the hills?” That would make things easier on me too.
He smiled. “No.”
“Well then I might. You posted a picture of me on Instagram.”
His expression was unapologetic as he folded his arms under his head and propped his foot up on the bed. “It was tasteful.”
“Grady!” I smacked his leg. Hard. “What were you thinking?”
His mouth opened to answer but there was a knock on the still open door. “Are you two coming back out?”
I looked over at Butler. “I’d ask if you had anything to do with it but I’m giving you a benefit of a doubt.”
“I’m assuming you’re talking about the picture online.” He glanced out into the living room before closing the door so it was only the three of us. “We should talk about that.”
Grady sat up and then stood. Anticipating something I didn’t. “Page and I can discuss it between ourselves.”
Butler gave him a long, hard stare. “Your private life is just that. Private. The record company, your agent, nor I have any say in it. However, I’m going to give you both some advice.”
“Don’t look at me,” I said. “I didn’t post the picture. He did. The only social media page I have is the same one I opened in college and I censor everything I post.”
“Which is a good thing. The picture made a splash on Twitter and Facebook. Grady, you know you need to be careful about these things and you were, in the sense that you left out her face and her name. But by Page’s reaction, I know she didn’t give her consent. That opens a whole different can of worms.”
“Butler. Enough,” Grady growled.
“No, Grady. If you two are going to continue this, she needs to know what she’s walking into.”
I was starting to get a migraine. “Can we not do this right now?”
“We’re doing this now, Page. I’m not talking to you as a friend right now. I’m talking to you as his manager.” He paused. “Did she sign the nondisclosure?”
I balked at that. “The what?”
“Jesus, Butler,” Grady hissed. “Enough.”
“It’s standard. Even Karen had to sign one.”
“Page isn’t going to say anything. She’s as much of a private person as I am.”
I rubbed the back of my neck and closed my eyes. What the hell had I been thinking? “Butler—”
“I vetted you,” he said, no nonsense. “First in the ballroom and again when we had dinner. As soon as I knew this was going to become a thing, I had my people start a thorough background check—”
My eyes popped open and I stared at him. If he’d done that then Butler knew the same thing Karen, Carrington, and Sterling knew. I knew for certain he did when he gave me the sympathetic eyes.
“We’re working on sealing some of the records. If you do this,” he said earnestly, “you’ll have to sign. Both the nondisclosure and to keep the records confidential and buried.”
“She’s not a liability, Butler. Stop treating her like one,” Grady said, arms folded. “Whatever record you’re talking about can’t be that bad. Emory has an arrest record after all.”
Butler let out a breath and I knew. “Page.” It was time to spill the beans. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready. But the rest of the world was.
“It’s not that kind of record,” Butler murmured.
Everything started spinning, air rushed past my ears so fast it sounded like a tornado. I had to steel myself up for this. The truth I hadn’t spoken in years was coming to light to the one person I’d tried to protect by making promises and staying quiet.
I stared at Butler the whole time, trying not to cry.
“His name was Gage Sinclair Townsend. He was stillborn at the fetal age of six months—”