Page 42 of Everything We Left Unsaid

He leans forward and plants his elbows on the table. “Tell me something, Jacob,” he begins, his tone patronizing. “Who the hell would go through that kind of elaborate scheme just to keep you and Abby apart? Huh? What kind of sick fuck does that just to screw with your life?”

He doesn’t believe me, and at this point, I’m so angry I don’t give a shit anymore.

“It’s an elaborate story. I’ll give you that,” he adds in mock praise.

“It’s a damn good thing we’re sitting in this hospital cafeteria right now and I care too much about Abby to upset her by getting arrested for kicking her brother’s ass,” I calmly articulate to him.

“Oh, don’t let that stop you, pretty boy,” he goads, standing and cracking his knuckles, preparing for a fight.

“Sit down, Ethan. You and I both know this can’t happen here. Those two security guards would have you pinned before you could pick yourself up off the floor to throw a retaliatory punch.” I motion with my head to the two bulky guards sitting a few tables down from us and Ethan’s gaze follows mine. One of the uniformed hulks must feel his stare because he looks up, his breakfast croissant halfway to his mouth, and notices Ethan watching him. Sensing the tension radiating off Ethan, he sets his food back on his plate, plants one hand on the table, preparing to stand, and reaches for his belt with the other. An array of items lines his waist: a taser, can of Mace, a baton, and handcuffs.

Ethan begrudgingly falls back into his seat with a huff. “Well, I’d rather not get my shit kicked in by the steroids twins over there.” He eyes them warily to make sure their focus returns to their food.

“Look, I know this is hard to believe, but it’s true. And I can prove it.”

“Prove it? How?”

“Ama found an article online.” He bristles at the mention of his grandmother. “There’s a picture of me taken with a Sudanese man during my internship. It’s dated for the six weeks I was gone.” He looks unconvinced and unimpressed. “I was in Africa during the time those texts were sent. I wasn’t even in the country when that letter was mailed.”

His eyes widen in understanding, and then he studies me a moment, trying to gauge if I’m bluffing. He calls it. “I need to see this so-called proof.”

“I don’t know what she did with the copy she printed out, but it’s in her house somewhere. She showed it to me.”

“Why don’t you just pull it up on your phone, dipshit?” He looks at me like I’m an idiot, and for fuck’s sake, he’s right. Why didn’t I think of that?

“Alright, asshole,” I counter, pulling my phone from my pocket. “I’ll see if I can find it.” I don’t know which site she found it on so it may take some searching. It seems there are about a million different news outlets these days.

After several minutes and a few false starts, I finally click on the right link. “Here.” I shove the screen toward his face and he takes the phone from my hands. His eyes roll over the display, taking in every word. He hits the button to shut down the screen and places my phone on the table. For a long moment, he just sits there staring at it, his head resting in his hands, fingers shoved in his coal black hair.

Finally, he looks up and straightens, taking in a deep breath. “Does Abby still have the envelope the letter came in?”

“What?” That’s not what I was expecting. “I have no idea. All she showed me was the letter itself, not what it came in.”

He’s silent for another beat. “I’m gonna have to see the postmark on that letter. If it matches up to the dates in that article,” he nods toward my phone, “Then I’ll owe you an apology.” He stands abruptly, the legs on his chair scraping against the industrial tile floor, and storms out of the cafeteria.

It’s not exactly the reaction I was looking for, but it’s better than him wanting to go all Fight Club on me. And in a hospital, no less.

When I enter the waiting room, Abby is seated in a chair next to the window. She’s looking outside as I approach, but turns to me when she hears my footsteps. She scrambles out of her seat and walks up to me.

“What happened?” she asks, her features laced with concern.

“I take it you talked to Ethan.”

“Yeah, I bumped into him as I was leaving my grandmother’s room. He looked upset.”

“I told him everything.”

She blinks up at me in surprise. “Oh. How did that go?”

“Not very well,” I admit. “He doesn’t believe me.”

She winces and turns away from me. “He can be pretty stubborn sometimes. He’ll come around, though.”

“I understand why he feels the way he does. You’re his sister and he’s believed the worst of me for two years. It’s hard to just let go of that.” I don’t mention our near-fight in the cafeteria. She would scold us both, and I really don’t want to be on her bad side. Especially not when I’m finally making some headway.

“You’re probably right. He needs a chance to process everything.” She crosses her arms over her torso and paces with a contemplative expression. “Maybe if he got to know you, he would understand. If he could see you the way I see you.”

I grab her as she tries to walk past and pull her into my arms. “I don’t think I want him to see me the way you do.” She sucks in a tiny gasp as I encircle my arms around her and lean in for a kiss. Her soft lips connect with mine and she lets out a quiet moan.

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