Page 152 of Sincerely, Your Enemy

“Graceview’s Care Center.”

My stomach drops, the truth unveiling itself and hitting me like a bolt of lightning.

This is a nursing home.

Does that mean… his mom is in there?

A large sign hangs above the double front doors, readingGraceview’s Care Center, Your Home For Healing, Hope, and Dignity.

What the…

“Vera’s waiting for us,” TJ adds, dropping yet another bombshell on me before I’ve even had a chance to process the first one.

“Wait, Vera? Your aunt is here?”

I knew I was going to meet his mom today, but I didn’t think I would be meeting two of his relatives.

“We visit her together every week. I thought she might… help you understand.”

It dawns on me.

“What about Kelsea? Doesn’t she come with you guys?”

You’d think if this is a weekly thing that Kelsea would be here to visit her mother.

A drop of sadness bleeds through TJ’s façade. “No, she hasn’t wanted to visit in a while.”

So, Kelsea has been refusing to come see her mom?

I don’t dare ask for specifics, waiting for TJ to pull into one of the visitors’ spots by the entrance. The next thing I know, he’s pushing the gear into park and killing the engine.

“Come on.” TJ gestures to follow him with his chin.

My legs feel wobbly as I climb out of the passenger seat. A gust of wind blows inside my coat once I slam the door shut, and a wave of chills scampers down my spine.

I pause and scan the area quickly. The building is made of white bricks, which have taken on a yellow hue over time, and is covered in narrow rectangle windows that are draped with dark curtains. The yard is sparse, too, bearing no sign of life or vegetation.

One word comes to mind as I soak up my surroundings.

Forgotten.

There’s just something about this place. It’s as though a veil of sadness hangs over the property, and I hug my arms to my chest like I’m hoping to keep that profound sadness from imprinting on me.

Might just be due to the fact that the sun’s nowhere to be found and clouds dominate the sky, warning us about the arrival of a storm.

“Vera’s waiting inside,” TJ says before leading the way to the entrance.

My stomach twists into a knot as I follow close behind TJ. The inside is nothing like I pictured it would be. The walls are painted a bright shade of yellow and decorated with colorful, impressionistic paintings. It smells nice, too, like lavender, and the contrast between the outside and inside of the building is striking.

This is warm, while the outside felt gloomy and uninviting.

The first person I see is the smiling lady sitting behind a desk with the wordReceptionon it. Until a dark-haired woman, most likely Vera, rises off one of the chairs in the waiting area and waves at us.

She looks like a businesswoman, with her black hair stopping at her shoulders and a handful of layered silver necklaces hanging around her neck. Her outfit also screams, “I got places to be,” consisting of a white blazer on top of a knee-length black dress with stiletto heels. If I recall correctly, TJ said she owns a chiropractic office.

The woman makes her way over to us, opening her arms in TJ’s direction. “There you are, Matty. I was worried.”

Matty?

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