Page 40 of All Our Secrets

I bit a fingernail as he bent down at the sink, setting a tool bag on the floor beside him. Not knowing what to say and not being able to stand the quiet in his presence, I asked, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

He froze, tipping his head upward. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” I said again.

Silas’s dark eyes trailed over my left hand again. He averted his gaze quickly, the muscles in his arms flexing as he did something to the pipe. “Go change and get to work. I’ll fix the leak.”

“But I need to clean this mess up—”

“I got it.”

“I can’t let you clean it up.”

“I work better alone.”

“Oh, okay.” Before I could say sorry again, Silas turned and cut me down with a glare. I swore he did that to keep me from saying any more. It worked. “Thanks for helping us.”

Silas grunted.

As I turned to walk out, he said something that, at first, I thought I had misheard, so I made him repeat it.

“Are you happy?”

Three words. Three very confusing words. Three words that felt so strange and profound coming from Theodore’s best friend.

Without looking back, I stared at my engagement ring, twisting it around. I thought of Theodore and his goofy smile. I thought of King, his voice in my ear, and all our sleepless nights spent talking. And… I thought of Silas and that question.

“Yes.”

My heart beat out of rhythm as I relived the memory. What would Silas have done if I had said no? Was he fishing on Theodore’s behalf to see how I felt?

In the silence of the room, a quiet squeak rang out, as if amplified through a speaker. I froze. Slowly, my bedroom door opened halfway. I raised up the second I saw the silhouette of a man. Heart pounding, I yelled, “Who’s there?”

The figure retreated, and I jumped out of bed. I poked my head out, finding William tiptoeing down the hall. “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked. It was like being a teenager all over again. Locking doors and confronting creepy old men to protect myself. How did Mom always,alwayspick the same dudes?

He turned slowly. “I got the bathroom confused again.”

“No, you didn’t,” I said as I gripped the door panel. “Besides, there are two bathrooms. Why keep coming to the master one?”

“Goodnight, Peyton,” the man replied quickly.

“You’re disgusting. I want you gone in the morning,” I gritted out. “And by the way, I have a gun—”

I didn’t get to finish my sentence. A scream tore from William’s throat as he toppled over the banister, and he crashed against the stairway. At the commotion, T.J. wailed. William howled in pain, but I ran to my son.

As I scooped up my crying boy, I tried to make sense of William’s fall. How did someone fall over a banister that reached their waist? It was like he’d thrown himself off. One second, he was walking, the next, his legs were over his head as he tipped.

Aterrible, terrible sensation rolled through my stomach.

Swaying side to side with my son, I walked back into the hallway and glanced over the railing. By then, Mom had the lights on and was checking on the creep while he held his arm. I winced. His wrist was bent at an odd angle.

“What happened?” Mom shouted.

“Your daughter pushed me.” William leered at me.What?I was so taken by his accusation and the pure venom in his voice that I gaped.

“What?” Mom said at the same time I said, “No, I didn’t.”

He scoffed. “Really? Then who did?”

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