Page 158 of Under the Lies

It feels weird to say. Almost unreal. A fantasy that I never wanted to be in.

If Noah’s frustrated by my question, he doesn’t show it. He scoots even closer, grabbing my ankle, tethering us together.

“We are, but when we go out on jobs, we each have a role. A task to carry out that best suits our skills. And your sister would always be the one to do the actual stealing.” He looks down at his hand around my ankle. “She was the best.”

Bitter jealousy stabs at me when hearing the pride in which he speaks on my sister’s skills. I want to shake myself, that’s nothing to be jealous about.

No more words are exchanged between us as we sit in the middle of the room, surrounded by stolen and counterfeit art.

Noah doesn’t push, doesn’t bother me to share my thoughts. He just sits with me as I process.

For so long, my entire life really, I’ve wanted to know what went on with my sister and her friends, was always curious if the rumors around town were true, but now I kind of wish I didn’t.

It feels like a spoiler to a book, where the build-up is so intense, so consuming, you’ve been squirming in anticipation only for someone else to tell you what happens. Ruining the illusion to the point where you now don’t want to see the end through.

That’s how it feels as I look at Noah.

And it twists my stomach tighter than I’ve ever felt.

I feel numb as he pulls us up, as he tells me we’re going to go home.

Trailing behind him, I feel like broken glass someone has poorly pieced back together. One wrong breath and I’ll break.

“Tell me about him.”

Noah picks his head up from his hands. He’s sitting on the edge of the couch, a glass of golden liquid beside him.

Coming back to Haven Harbor was supposed to make me feel closer to my grandfather, but I’m further away than ever.

The man I knew was not the man he was.

Noah knows the man he was.

He’s watching me now, assessing me. I cross my arms, staring at him blankly. Expectantly.

“What do you want to know?” he asks, carefully.

Everything. Nothing. I don’t know.

The man I grew up with now feels like a stranger. I didn’t know Jack Brooks like I thought I did. But Noah did.

Noah knows more about my granddad than I ever will.

I step closer to the couch, to him.

It’s been hours since we got back, hours that have felt like days. Minutes that have passed like seconds.

Noah pats the cushion next to him.

Slowly, I lower myself next to him, pressing my back into the arm of the leather couch. Facing him. There are centimeters between us, space he can easily eat up, but he doesn’t.

That doesn’t stop his penetrating gaze from hooking mine. “Where do you want to start?”

“I don’t know. I just want to understand the Jack Brooks you knew,” I finally admit in a whisper. “I want to understand.”

Noah studies my face. Worry creeps into his expression. At any other time, I would’ve melted at the sight of vulnerability peeking through, but right now all I wonder is if my face looks as drained, as empty as I feel.

“Your sister introduced us,” he starts. “But Baron took me under his wing after the second time we met.”

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