Page 161 of What's Left of Us

Fear.

“Georgia?”

I walk over and kneel in front of her, seeing the redness in her white hues and the puffiness in her lids that make it look like she’s been crying.

Her jaw quivers. “I need to tell you something.”

The seriousness in her tone makes me still.

Repositioning, I prepare myself for whatever she’s about to say. But right as she opens her mouth, I knock over my bag and spill the contents. Including the notes with her father’s name all over them and the pictures that Knight just gave to me this morning.

Pictures of her on the phone.

Of her father meeting with suited men.

Of her stepmother walking into town with makeup caked onto a swollen face.

Her eyes drift over the images taken from a long-range camera, and a tiny breath puffs past her lips. “You…”

She bends down and collects the last one I had Knight’s man snap of her before I told him to stop. Her eyes flicker between me and the photo of her walking into a high-rise in the city. According to Knight, there were at least twenty different offices inside. But the one that captured my attention was the main office for Carbone Realty.

“Georgia—”

The fear is wiped away, and anger takes its place. “You were having me followed?”

“I—”

“We said no more lies.” She cuts me off, pushing past me.

I stand before I fall, ignoring the mess scattered on the floor as she furiously swipes at her face and walks into the bedroom. When I see her grabbing a bag and stuffing clothes into it, I try to stop her. “Come on, Georgia. Hear me out.”

“No. I’vetriedhearing you out foryears, Lincoln. I’ve tried believing that my father was wrong about you, but that just proves he was right.”

What? I follow her as she storms out of the bedroom and back down the hall. “What are you talking about?”

She tosses her hand toward the information Conklin and Knight passed along to me. “He told me you were looking into him, but I didn’t believe it. Then I gave you the chance to tell me over and over again, but you didn’t. I let myself believe it wasn’t true. But this?” She picks up the photo of her entering the gate leading up to her parents’ house. “This is a line I didn’t think you would cross.”

If she wants to point fingers, she wouldn’t make it out unscathed. “Maybe if you told me what was going on betweenyou and your family, I wouldn’t need to resort to this. I’ve askedyouhundreds of times not to go. I’ve reminded you what you walked away from years ago, but you still chose them.”

“It wasn’t about choosing anyone.”

“It was tome,” I yell, grabbing the photo from her and throwing it back onto the floor. “All of the work I’ve done trying to make you happy never seems to be enough. And for what? You may not think you’re picking sides, but you are. And no matter what I do for you, forus, you throw it back in my face by forgetting who put you in this position to begin with.”

She grips her bag in her hand. “If I can look past the things he’s done, why can’t you?”

My nostrils flare. “Because.”

“Becausewhy?”

“Because you’re living in some sort of delusional reality where the shit he’s involved in is kids’ play. Open your goddamn eyes, Georgia, and stop being so fucking naive.”

She pales at my raised tone, so I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. Yelling isn’t going to get me anywhere, so I try taking a few calming breaths.

“I can’t just shut off my emotions like you do, Lincoln. It doesn’t work that way for everybody. You may think it does because you’ve trained yourself to, but I feeleverything. I feel anger. And sadness. And grief. I feel sad. And mad. And confused. But you know what I haven’t felt in a long time?”

All I do is watch her.

“Happiness.”

---