Page 37 of Fake Engaged to the Enemy

She doesn’t answer. Hmmm. She must be outside.

I decide to grab a few of the things we’re low on and then head back to Grandma’s house.

As I’m driving, I call George.

“Hello, fiancé,” I tease when he answers. The Bluetooth in my car crackles. “How was your day at work?”

“Rough,” he answers, sounding frustrated. “One of my new hires managed to nail himself to a cross beam. I spent the afternoon filling out reports.”

“Ouch! How did he do that?”

“I was giving him safety training, and he said that he knew how to use a nail gun. Picked it up, I told him to put it down, and the next thing I know, he’s screaming, and his hand is nailed clean though.”

I grimace, a tingle in the center of my palm. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah. Doctors say it was a clean injury, thank God.” George sighs in a rush of static. “I hope he’s learned a lesson from this. I’m not putting another power tool in his hands until he goes through very rigorous training.”

The ‘conspiracy’ part of my brain wonders if this new hire did it on purpose.

“Is it going to hurt your company?”

“Nah. We have cameras and there’s witnesses.”

“That’s good.” I push the thought from my head. “Will you be joining Grandma and me for supper?”

“Sure thing. I’m headed out to Lynn’s right now. I should be there in forty minutes.”

I grin. “See you at home, then.”

We hang up.

And it’s only at that moment that I realize what I said.

Home.

This isn’t home, is it?

Actually… it is. Maybe not Sandburrow, but Grandma is ‘home.’ More so than any random place I’ve lived.

My high spirits are dashed low as soon as I get to the house.

“I’m home,” I call when I enter.

Nobody answers.

I frown. “Grandma?”

There’s a shuffling noise from upstairs. I head up, the stairs creaking beneath me. When I emerge to the top floor, I find Grandma, huffing as she shoves a mattress into the spare room.

“What are you doing?” I start.

Even as I speak, a head pokes around the doorframe. The same brown eyes I have peer out at me from a much younger face.

I stop dead. “Katherina?”

“Come help me with this,” Grandma orders, waving me over.

Numb, I jump into action. I help them heave the mattress into the room, where we maneuver it onto an ancient bedframe.

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