Page 117 of Begin Again

Like Gabriel. As if she hadn’t taken him from us.

I swallow the bile rising in my throat, my fingers curling around my glass so tightly it’s a wonder it doesn’t shatter. “Of course,” I say, forcing the words out before Morgan can push further. “He’d want us to focus on the good. That’s what today is about, right?”

Aubrey’s expression softens again, and she nods. “Exactly. It’s what he would’ve wanted.”

But she doesn’t know what Gabriel would have wanted. Not really. Because he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want his story cut short.

And neither did the others.

The tension thrums beneath my skin, hot and electric. I can feel it in Theo too, in the way his breath is just a little too controlled, in the rigid set of his shoulders. I can feel it in Morgan, the way her fingers drum idly against her thigh, her patience thinning with every second.

Theo shifts beside me, his voice cutting through the thick silence. “You always did have a way of making things perfect, Aunt Aubrey. Even when the odds weren’t in your favor.”

Aubrey’s smile stills, her eyes narrowing just slightly before she smooths the expression away. “It’s all about determination,” she replies, voice light but edged with steel. “If you want something badly enough, you find a way to make it happen.”

I clench my fingers around my glass, the cold from the sweet tea seeping into my palm. My stomach churns.If you want something badly enough, you find a way to make it happen.Like Gabriel’s death? Like the others?

Theo’s smile doesn’t waver. “Yeah, you’ve always been good at that.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Aubrey’s fingers tighten around her glass, her knuckles whitening. I can almost see the gears turning in her head, trying to decide if we’re onto her or if this is just a pleasant if slightly odd, conversation.

“You know,” she says, her tone carefully casual, “Gabriel used to say that too. Even the day he…” Her words taper off, and for a moment, her mask flickers.

Morgan leans forward slightly. “The day he…what?”

Aubrey’s smile falters for the first time, her eyes darting between us. “The day he passed. I—I was actually with him earlier that day. I brought him lunch at the station.”

A pulse of white-hot rage flashes through me. She says it like it’s nothing like it’s an anecdote and not a confession laced with honey. Next to me, Theo stiffens, his knee brushing against mine—a silent anchor. Morgan’s sharp gaze lands on Aubrey, but she doesn’t strike yet.

“That was sweet of you,” I manage, keeping my voice neutral even as my heart pounds. “Gabriel must’ve loved that.”

Aubrey nods quickly, her words tumbling out now. “He was stressed, you know? He’d been looking into files on his computer, and I just wanted to cheer him up. I thought some sweet tea and his favorite sandwich might help.”

I swallow hard, bile rising in my throat. Sweet tea. The same tea I refuse to drink now. The same tea I suspect killed him.

Theo tilts his head, his voice deceptively calm. “What was he stressed about?”

Aubrey hesitates, her grip on her glass tightening again. “Oh, it was nothing. Just some…work stuff. He didn’t say.”

Morgan leans forward, her voice razor-sharp. “He didn’t say, or you didn’t ask?”

Aubrey flinches.

Her eyes flick to Theo, then to me, her composure cracking just slightly. “He was talking about someone looking into files. He thought it was a hacker or a breach. I—I don’t know the details.”

Theo leans forward, his voice quiet but firm. “What did he say, Aubrey?”

She swallows hard, her eyes darting away. “I don’t remember exactly. He just mentioned about someone looking into me. And…Theo.”

My stomach clenches. A wave of sadness swells inside me, pressing against my ribs—for Bennett for not knowing that looking into his family would be the catalyst. And now, Theo sits beside me, his jaw tight, his hands curling into fists. I can feel the anger radiating off him in waves.

Morgan doesn’t move, her eyes locked on Aubrey like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Aubrey forces a laugh, though it comes out shaky. “It was probably nothing. Gabriel was always so protective. He worried too much.”

“But you were worried too,” I say softly, my voice steady even as my heart pounds. “Worried enough to… Take action?”

Her eyes snap to mine, and for a moment, I see it—the fear, the guilt, the truth she’s been trying so desperately to hide. The mask is slipping, no matter how hard she tries to hold it in place.

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