Page 49 of Always Us

“I heard you married Garret. A little young, aren’t you? And weren’t you two broken up last semester? Or was that all for show?”

“What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense.” I feel like it’s last semester all over again. Listening to Carson’s conspiracy theories and trying to steer him off track. And just like last semester, his theories aren’t that far off.

“What’s going on, Jade? You broke up with Garret in March and now you’re married to him? After he slept with all those girls and did drugs and destroyed hotel rooms and cars? Doesn’t seem to add up.”

“Garret’s changed. He doesn’t do that stuff anymore. And I forgave him, so yeah, we got married.”

“I’m not stupid. I know something’s going on here.”

“Garret will be home any second, and if he sees you here it’s not going to be good. He has a gun, so you really should leave.” Now I’m making up lies. That’s just great.

“Is it the same gun he shot himself with last year? You said that was a shotgun. Are you saying he’s going to show up here with a shotgun? Does he take it to class with him?” He laughs a little.

“It’s not a shotgun. It’s a handgun and he’s not afraid to use it. So you need to get out of here.”

His expression turns serious. “What happened to you, Jade? Why are you involved in this? I told you to get out while you still could and now you’re married into his family. Why didn’t you get away from him when I told you to?”

“Why would I listen to you? You really think I’d believe your crazy conspiracy theories? You’re the only one who believes that stuff. Even your dad thought your theories were crazy.”

“That wasn’t my dad. And that woman wasn’t my mom.”

I stare at him, trying to see if maybe this is some kind of joke. But why would he joke about that? He doesn’t look like he’s joking. And this isn’t funny. Just having him here is freaking me out and the things he’s saying are just plain eerie. Why would he say those people weren’t his parents? I met them. They told me stories about his childhood. Is he saying he was adopted? But they’d still be his parents.

He continues. “The people you met were actors. They’re good at playing parents, don’t you think? Very realistic.”

More chills run down my spine and I shudder. “Why would you do that? Why would you hire actors to play your parents?”

“Because I had to get you to believe my story. I never thought you’d actually take me up on my offer to drive you across the country like that. So when you did, I had to come through on my story about living in small-town Illinois and my dad being a doctor and my mom being a nurse.”

“What about that house? Who did it belong to?”

“Nobody. It was just a model home that real estate agents show people who are looking to build a house in that neighborhood. They let us rent it for the day. We hung some fake family photos on the wall to make it look like we really lived there.”

“You’re saying everything you told me was a lie? Even that stuff about your sister dying from cancer?” I’m getting really angry now. He lied to me for months. Made up those stories. Made me feel sorry for him.

“My sister did die. But not from cancer.” His eyes fix on mine. “She was murdered. She was killed because she knew too much.” He pauses, then says, “She was the reporter, Jade. The reporter who discovered the election fraud in Ohio and Florida. She was killed before she could tell people.”

“You said the reporter was a guy.”

“It wasn’t a guy. It was my sister.”

“You’re lying. You admitted to lying about everything else, so why would I believe this story about your sister?”

“Because it’s the truth. I wouldn’t lie about that. My sister was everything to me. Our parents died years ago in a car crash. She’s all I had left.”

“What about your uncle in Chicago? The one you said got you into all this conspiracy stuff?”

“There was no uncle. I was talking about myself. I’m a reporter in Chicago. Well, I was until I started doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Can we just sit down and talk?”

I glance back at the deck. Maybe it would be better to be closer to the house. My phone is on the kitchen counter. I could run in and get it if I needed to. Or I could get a knife from the drawer.

“Fine. We’ll sit on the deck. You first.” I don’t want to walk in front of him, so I let him lead the way. We go up the short set of stairs and sit at the table.

“I’m listening,” I say. “Start talking.”

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