I rolled over and curled the blanket tight around me. Bigger issues brewed here than the minuscule problem of my shattered heart. Finding out the truth about who and what I was loomed at the top of my list of things to do. Well before piecing my heart back together.
But what could I do? Where did I start? I didn't have friends to turn to and I didn't want to burden Ms. Custer with problems that were never hers to begin with.
I fell asleep when the dark night sky bled into a dusky grey, only for my sleep to be riddled with dreams of Aidan surrounded by a golden glow that predicted his death.
Chapter 13
Days stretched into weeks, and the end of November blew in on a frigid wind. I took to using Izzy's bike to get to school, preferring to get there and back with as much speed as possible.
Hiding from Pete and his henchmen had taken a toll on me. I was grateful that Ms Custer had taken my revelation so well. I'd begged her not to go to the police, and watched as she laughed when I told her how I'd trounced my attackers. I prayed the day would come when those thugs forgot the pain I'd put them through. But I was in for a long wait. Pride healed slower than wounds. In the meantime I chose the safest, quickest route home.
When school let out for Thanksgiving break I sped home, weaving through the smaller back streets and skidding to a stop at our back door. I hoped to escape upstairs unseen, choosing to sneak into the house through the back way. Food was still a sore topic with poor Ms. Custer, a subject I avoided like a vampire did garlic. I didn't want to be responsible for hurting her.
I waited a few seconds in the kitchen, listening. The coast was clear. But just as the door to the dining room shifted beneath my fingers, ready to swing open, the sound of Ms. Custer's voice skittered down the hall. The nervous tremor and icy disdain in her words broadcast an unmistakable warning. Ms. Custer didn't have the constitution to be nervous. Something was wrong.
"I told you twice already, she ran away," she said, her voice edgy, as if hovering between frustration and tears.
"Why would she run away?" said a deeper voice, more authoritative, more official. "Is there something about your care that made her unhappy?"
I didn't appreciate the insinuation. Seemed he was going for intimidation. I didn't plan on allowing it. I gritted my teeth and took a step forward.
"My Bryn had her poor heart broken." An uncharacteristic chill in Ms. Custer's voice stopped me from barging right into the living room. She spoke with a harshness and an undertone of accusation, as if she had aimed the statement at another person in the room. "Then, to make matters worse, she was attacked by a group of boys from the school."
A third person spoke. "What? What happened? Is she okay?" The familiar voice rang in my ears. An unwelcome dizziness accosted my head. My hip nudged the pine table in the middle of the kitchen as I backed into it.
The last voice I thought I'd ever hear again.
Aidan.
Ms. Custer answered him curtly. "Young man, that's simply none of your business." The heat of pure anger blazed in my foster mom's voice and I gave a silent cheer for her. Not only because she was backing me up, but because she had the guts to tell Aidan off in front of those threatening, official-sounding people.
The first man spoke again. "Miss Custer, I would appreciate it if you could answer Mr. Lee's question. This is an official investigation, and if Miss Halbrook is in any danger or has been injured in any way it would be best for us to know the extent of her injuries."
"She's fine. She kicked their butts and sent them packing."
"Sounds like Bryn." I stiffened as Aidan's voice echoed again, only this time a trail of rage ripped at my gut.
How dare you sound pleased or proud of me? How dare you come back here looking for me, and bringing your government goon, too?
"I've answered enough of your questions. What more do you want from me, then?" asked Ms. Custer. Behind the impatience in her voice lay an inch of steel. "You've already turned my place upside down for that book when it simply isn't here. You've seen for yourselves Bryn isn't here. So why are you still here?"
"Because I simply do not believe you. You see, I think you will cover for her given the chance. I think you could very well be lying to us. You say she ran. Why does her room not look like she's taken off for a long time, or for good? All her stuff is still there, isn't it?"
"Oh, so when you decide to run away, I take it you stop to pack your hairdryer and your high heel pumps. No, Mr. Worthington. Bryn ran because her heart was broken. She ran because she was hurt and alone and probably in shock too. I'm sorry she wasn't here for you to arrest her for stealing a book, which I'm sure she wouldn't have taken in the first place." Bitterness laced her words, along with a hefty dose of anger. "If you're done I need my tea. You've wasted enough of my time."
Panic flitted through me. I couldn't run out the back door. It would close too loudly and then Ms. Custer would be in tons of trouble. Slipping into the broom closet at the far end of the kitchen, I pulled the door, leaving it slightly ajar. I couldn’t risk the click of the latch giving me away. Already they were filing into the kitchen after her, as if Ms. Custer meant to abscond with the teabags.
She gave my hiding place a quick stare, then went straight to the kettle and filled it at the sink. With the kettle starting its boil, she pulled out a cup and a little plate and prepared her tea.
"Please excuse me if I don't offer you my hospitality, Mr. Worthington." She threw him a tepid smile.
He smiled back, baring his teeth. He seemed unfamiliar with the human act of smiling. Tall, stocky, FBI issue. Aidan stood on the other side of the kitchen table, facing the broom closet head on. Damn.
Ms. Custer fished a teabag out of the plastic container and discreetly dug her fingernail into it as she dropped it into her cup. In a blink the surface of the table was strewn with fine tea leaves.
"Now see what you made me do!" she cried.
Worthington smirked, unaffected. Aidan frowned, his gaze flicking to Ms. Custer's harried face.
She stalked to the broom closet, bent in and grabbed the little dust pan and brush. She shut the door firmly. Darkness wove bands of shadows around me, blinding me. I listened as my foster mom's hand scraped spilled leaves into the dustpan. The pedal bin clanged as she tipped the contents of the pan into it.
Footsteps drew closer and I pressed myself against the wall, hugging my bag tight against me. Inside the bag, the very book these louts were after poked me in the ribs. The door opened and Ms. Custer returned the dustpan to its place, never once glancing in my direction.
When she shut the door again, the darkness of the closet wasn't as bad. My eyes adjusted slowly. I strained my ears, catching the running of water as she washed her hands, the tinkling of the spoon against the cup as she mixed her tea. I knew she would head out to the living room to enjoy her cup. Surely Worthington and Aidan would follow. I reached for the doorknob. Then Aidan spoke. My hand tightened on the knob, strained until my knuckles shone white even inside the shadowed closet.
"I told you. You're wasting your time," he said to Worthington. "She doesn't have the book. I must have misplaced it somewhere else."
"Your father wants the book, Mr. Lee. That means we have to find it. Besides, we've been ordered to terminate Miss Halbrook. And despite your reservations, we will do as we are ordered."
Aidan scoffed. "I doubt one little girl could possibly be a serious threat to a man as powerful as my father."
"Nevertheless, we have our orders," said Worthington, his voice cutting. "You were supposed to come here, get the lay of the land, and return with the information. The only reason you were sent here was because you could fit in. But you can't do a single thing right. Your father is not impressed."
"My father is never impressed, Worthington. Haven't you realized that yet?" I stiffened in the darkness. I could just picture the sneer marring Aidan's lips. "But you see, there's one difference between you and me," he continued. "I don't get paid to be impressed. I don't owe my father anything."
Worthington remained silent. I wondered if he stared at Aidan in disdain or ground his teeth in frustration at the upstart son of his boss.
Aidan sighed. "How much longer do you want to wait here? She would have been here by now if she was coming home at all."
"Perhaps the old woman was right," Worthington conceded. "Anywhere else she used to go to if she didn't come straight home?"
"The Craven Town Library," Aidan answered.
"Fine. Let's wrap it up here, then check the library. I'll have Martinez get in touch with the local police to put an APB out on Miss Halbrook. Suspected theft, possession of a weapon."
"Is that really necessary?" Aidan's voice flooded with alarm. As did my entire body. Things were not panning out well at all. These creeps were supposed to find nothing and leave. Not get the police involved in a statewide girl-hunt. Who were they? More to the point, who the hell was Aidan?
"We need that book back. We wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for your carelessness."
Aidan's hand slapped the kitchen countertop. "Don't kid yourself. You would definitely be here. My father would still want her terminated whether we find the book or not."
Worthington spoke, his voice dangerously soft. "Keep your voice down. The old lady's not deaf. Let's go. We can come back and keep an eye on the place. If she really has run away, then the old woman is safe. If I find she's been lying to cover for the mutant, then she goes too."