Page 11 of Fated Secret Baby

“I can’t,” I continue, my voice just above a whisper. “I don’t want to know the answer to that question.”

“Why not?”

Because it will hurt too badly to feel it all again. Amara doesn’t know that I overheard him telling his mom that we couldn’t be mates. She just knows that I found something out that made me run.

She sighs. “Look. I know that it feels terrible. I really do. But you have to get some closure, Calista. He did something that made you dislike him so much, you moved back to your pack in Florida. You had his child and never told him. Don’t you want to know why he did that?”

“I don’t know,” I say finally.

She shrugs. “Okay. Well. If you find out…”

“Mom!”

The scream, which is louder than I’ve ever heard before, gets both of us up off the porch swing. I rip open the front door, dashing in to the house.

Water splashes around my ankles.

Juniper is up on the kitchen chair, holding her bowl of cereal above her head. It looks ridiculous, but the kid will do anything to keep her cereal safe. She looks at us, her blue eyes wide. “I didn’t do it. The sink barfed,” she says.

Amara and I look at each other, then we sprint for the sink.

“So it’s like the entire system that’s messed up?”

Amara and I are staring at the plumber, who nods sadly. “Yes, ma’am. Tree roots can do that, especially around here.”

Neither one of us can really believe that tree roots did this. Amara shifts, her eyes hard. “Tree roots ruined my entire plumbing system?”

“Yep. Happens all the time. These big pine trees are old, and they’re strong. The pipes that folks used to lay down just ain’t all that good, and with the harsh winters, they deteriorate faster because they expand and contract with the ground. Get that, a little crack, a root hair nearby, and boom!” He claps his hands together, making both Amara and I jump. “Root’s in, and the pipe is shot.”

“The pipe is shot,” Amara echoes, her voice ringing with disbelief.

“Yes, ma’am,” the plumber says with a grin. “Shot like a target on a range.”

His cheerful demeanor is going to drive her to murder. I jump in before she growls at the very human plumber. “So, what do we do now?”

“Well, I need to do a full scope of the damage, but my guess is you need a total system rebuild.” That doesn’t sound good. I stare at him, and he elaborates. “Basically, you need to take everything out. Rip up all the pipes outside of the house, put new ones in, cover it back up, put the whole system together. Y’all connected to the town system out here, or you have septic?”

We exchange a glance, and Amara sighs. “I have no idea.”

“If it’s the town system,” the plumber says, scratching his ear, “that’ll be easier. Septic?” He whistles. “We’ll have to put a whole new tank in and seal off the old one, too.”

“How long is this going to take?” Amara demands.

He shrugs. “Five, six weeks? Depending on the crew I can get up here, and how much you’re willing to pay for the equipment.”

Amara pinches the space between her eyebrows. “Let me make some calls.”

The plumber nods and heads back to his truck. While Amara is on the phone, I sit on the porch swing next to Juniper. She’s sadly staring at her cereal.

“Hey, kiddo.”

She looks up. “Mommy, did I break the house?”

Oh, poor thing. I hug her close. “No, sweetheart. The trees broke the house.”

She gasps and peers up. Oh, dear. In order to evade nightmare fodder, I explain that the trees are normal, they just have very strong roots. They can’t move or attack her. Begrudgingly, she accepts this, and by the time she’s eating her super soggy cereal again, Amara is done.

“Sorry,” she says. “I had no idea.”

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