“Um, you said it. A few times.”
“They love me and they raised me in a safe, beautiful place.”
“I know.”
“And I don’t have any questions.”
“Okay,” he said.
Somehow it was the wrong thing to say. Leslie shrank into the corner of the booth. Her shoulders tensed. She was a turtle, pulling into her shell. But her words kept coming.
“My parents are not hundreds of years old, Ryker. If they were, I would know.”
“Okay.”
She hissed at him, teeth bared, eyes flashing.
Ryker kept quiet, and she remained curled in on herself. She wasn’t relaxing. The next few minutes felt interminable, but she had been patient while he found words for Jacqueline. He waited for Leslie to find words too.
Except…she didn’t. She simply sat there. The minutes wore on while she sat motionless, didn’t blink, didn’t breathe.
“Leslie?”
This time, his voice seemed to puncture the bubble of stress around her. Her shoulders fell, and she covered her face. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I overstepped.”
“You didn’t, though. You made a suggestion, and I…I don’t know why I got so worked up. Except I do know.”
He held out his open hand, and Leslie reached across the table and took it between both of hers. She traced his knuckles with her thumb, then wove her fingers between his. He curled his fingers only slightly. He didn’t want her to feel trapped, not in any way, not even one of her hands.
“I never thought about it before we met, Ryker. Not really. Just here and there, over the years. But the last few weeks… I keep wondering new things. You and I will talk about something random, but it trips up my thoughts and then I’m comparing your experience to mine, and… Well. Some of my upbringingwasa little weird.”
He nodded. There was abutcoming.
“But the thing is…I did ask. I thought about it for a while and then I called my mom and asked.”
“What happened?”
“She hung up on me.” Her shoulders hunched up for a moment, then relaxed again. She had been studying their linked hands, but now she peeked up at him. “Sorry I hissed at you.”
“You know, sometimes I have that effect.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry for pushing, and I’m sorry your mom wouldn’t talk to you.”
He couldn’t imagine it, not really. Couldn’t put himself in her place. His own mom would hang up on him only if their househad caught fire, and before she did she’d say,“House on fire, call you back later.”
Leslie tilted her head, and the skin tightened around her eyes. “You can do it.”
“Do what?”
“Find out the truth. About my family. You have the resources to do it. I bet you know at least a few private investigators.”
Slowly he nodded, seeing the plan form second by second on her face. “Leslie, I don’t know if—”
“Well, I do. Could you get in trouble, legally?”
“There’s limits to what I can look up myself, but I can hire a P.I. for personal use any time I want. They’re free agents, generally speaking.”
“Perfect. So first of all, try to find their birth records. Let’s see if your hunch is reliable.”