Page 87 of The Trouble with Players

I shook my head.

“Is he going to jail?”

My brows furrowed and I shook my head.

“Did you find out he killed someone?”

I shook my head.

“What else could it be? Are you guys related?”

I stared at her, physically unable to admit that she’d guessed this unfathomable truth.

I don’t think Gina’s eyes could’ve grown any bigger as she grasped the significance of my silence.

“I don’t even know what to say,” she said.

“There’s nothing to say.”

“When you say related…”

I closed my eyes and tears escaped them.

Gina climbed into my lap, dropping her head onto my shoulder. “Oh, Peyton.”

“I know. It’s sick,” I said, knowing what she was thinking.

“You didn’t know,” she assured me.

“You have to promise me you won’t tell anyone,” I pleaded. “Not Cody. Not your parents.”

Gina made a cross over her heart with her finger. “Promise.”

We stayed silent as the waves crashed in the background and Gina processed what I’d told her—as if that would ever even be possible.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“Thank you for seeing me,” I said as I looked around the small office. A small waterfall that was meant to sound peaceful and soothing sat on the single shelf, and the table to my right held a basket filled with fidgets and a box of tissues.

“It’s my pleasure,” Blythe, the therapist seated across from me, said. “Gina demanded that I take you in today.”

I laughed. “She’s a good friend.”

“And a great niece. So, where would you like to begin?” Blythe asked, pushing her rectangular glasses up from the tip of her nose where they kept slipping to.

“I’ve been having panic attacks for a year.”

“That must be very scary,” she said.

I shrugged.

“Do you know what triggers them?”

“Situations that feel out of my control,” I explained.

“And do you often feel that you’re placed in situations that are out of your control?”

“This year? Yes. Before that, I thought I had the perfect life.”

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