Page 99 of Ruling Scar
“You think I don’t brush my teeth?” I hop into a pair of sweats.
“Well, I don’t know what to think these days, Lennie.” She leans her head against Albert's side.
“Why are you here?” I sit cross-legged on the corner of the bed. I can’t help noticing the way Adeline catalogs every detail of the room. “How did you?—”
“Figure out that you and Elijah are secretly dating?” She blinks innocently.
Leave it to my baby sister to become Sherlock Holmes.
“How did you know I was here?” I ask.
She pulls out her phone and clicks on her photos. My brow wrinkles as I watch her click on an album she created and scroll back. Flipping the phone around, she shows me a photo of my sneakers in Elijah’s front hallway.
“What the—” I think it’s an old Instagram story she saved. “When was that?”
“The night you went on your date with Leopold,” Adeline informs me, tossing her hair over her shoulder. I remember himtaking a photo of me, but I never caught him taking a random picture of my shoes in the entryway. And to post it that night.
He staked his claim right away. I guess I’m lucky it wasn’t the one of us kissing. That one is the background on his phone.
Adeline swipes to another photo. There’s a ton of them. All different snapshots. Elijah posts to his stories to prove to Leopold I’m taken. One shows us holding hands on the couch, our faces not visible, but the hockey game in the background. There’s a silly video of Elijah grocery shopping, looking for ingredients to make my favorite meal. There are photos of my dark romances on the nightstand.
And holy fuck.
“Is that me sleeping?” I didn’t know about this one. My face isn’t visible, but it’s clear a woman is sleeping in Elijah’s bed, dark long hair strewn across a pillow.
“It was only up for a couple hours. Really late at night,” Adeline says. She lifts a brow. “Almost like he only wanted certain people to see it. What’s going on?”
Albert sinks to the ground, demanding belly rubs. She obliges but waits for my reply.
I shake my head slightly. I can’t explain.
Cocking her head to one side, she brushes her hair back. It’s rare to see her so serious.
“I’m fine.” She didn’t need to track me down.
“You’re dating Elijah,” she states. I sense curiosity rather than judgment.
“Yes,” I admit.
“For the past couple of months.”
“I. . .”
“I thought you went out with Leopold.” She lifts her phone slightly like she’s ready to go back to the first photo she showed me. She’s been keeping track this whole time?
For all her ramblings and dramatics, she pays attention to detail.
“I did. But Leopold’s not very nice.”
“What do you mean, not nice?” Her somber expression makes her look like Mom and it’s an unnerving experience.
I struggle for a few seconds, trying to start the story. It’s only as I start to talk that I realize just how much I’ve kept from her.
Her frown deepens. “So Elijah’s helping you.”
I nod.
“Why didn’t you ask for my help?”
