Page 42 of Tell Me Something True

“I’m sorry I tried to go to Jeremy’s party,” she went on. “And I’m sorry I didn’t call you or Urban right away when I got stuck, but mostly I’m sorry for scaring you. I hope you can forgive me.”

Scaring him? He’d been terrified. Someone had contacted the police station, sending them a picture of an abandoned car on Songbird Lane. When Miles realized it was Verity’s car—and she hadn’t responded to his calls—he’d panicked.

By the time he got there, Reed Walsh, a local kid Verity’s age, had helped her get her car unstuck.

And when Miles arrived and saw the kid standing too close to his baby sister on that dark, empty street, it’d rattled him even more.

“Always.” He’d always and forever forgive her and nothing she could ever do would change that. “For anything. You know that, right?”

He needed her to know that. To believe it. While he may not forgive easily or often, she would always be the exception.

“Thank you.” She cleared her throat. Took a sip of coffee. “Speaking of last week,” she said, her way-too-casual tone alerting him that what she was about to say was going to be anything but casual. “You weren’t exactly super friendly with Reed. Maybe I’m not the only one who needs to apologize.”

In the act of throwing the napkin into the garbage, Miles froze, the back of his neck prickling with unease. He looked over his shoulder at her. “You want me to apologize to Reed Walsh?”

Her shrug was all nonchalance. Not a care in the world, his sister, with her apology breakfast sandwich and cookies. Her subtle schooling on his lack of friendliness.

Her sudden interest in Reed Walsh.

“Well, you were rather rude.”

Leaning back against the counter, he crossed his feet at the ankles. “Was I?”

She nodded. Set her bagel down and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “You told him what was going on was none of his business—”

“It wasn’t.”

“—and you accused him of being the reason I broke the rules in the first place—”

“It’s not out of the realm of possibility.”

“—and even after I told you how he helped me get unstuck, you didn’t thank him.”

“How do you know I didn’t thank him after you left?”

“Did you?”

Hell no.

And yeah, maybe he should have, but at the time, even knowing she was safe, he’d still been too worried about her to be polite.

Eyes downcast, she broke a piece off one of the cookies. “What did you say to him after I left?”

Pushing away from the counter, Miles straightened. “I’m not discussing any conversation Walsh and I may or may not have had that night or any other night.”

“He said you arrested him,” she blurted.

“When?”“When he was eight.”

“No,” he said slowly, suspicion starting to dawn that perhaps last weekend wasn’t the only time she’d chatted it up with Reed Walsh. “When did he tell you that?”

She shrugged again. Broke the piece of cookie she held in two. “I texted him Sunday night—”

Miles groaned.

“—to thank him for helping me and I brought up how you two seemed to be fairly well-acquainted, and he mentioned that you arrested him—”

“I didn’t arrest him when he was eight. Jesus.” Walsh had been caught stealing candy bars at a local mini mart. “I let him go with a warning.”

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