Page 66 of The Souls of Lost Lake
“Why not?” She couldn’t deny the little sister wail that infiltrated her voice.
“Contrary to popular belief,” Pippin said as he lowered the Pepsi, “I actuallydohave a job. I’m under contract right now and I need to get this app finished. I don’t have time to dig into ancestral files.”
“I don’t need a family tree, Pip. I need my birth certificate.”
“Ask Dad.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because!”
“Arwen!”
“Pippin!”
They were at a standoff. Pippin wasn’t easy as an older brother. She’d tried to establish a friendship with him since she was little. The age gap between them hadn’t helped, and his preference for virtual friendships over face-to-face relationships had long been established. Outside of Mom, Pippin had never been close to either their dad or Wren.
She tried again. “Pip, I know you. It’ll take you all of thirty minutes to dig it up online.”
“Maybe.” He mashed his lips into a thoughtful scowl. “Never done it before.”
“You created a digital map ofThe Lord of the Ringsgeographic layout in a day.”
“That’s different.”
“It’sharder.”
“Yeah, well...” He took another swig and skirted past her as he headed toward the basement stairs. “From what I know, you can find birth records, but to get a certificate you need to request it from the state you were born in.”
Wren trailed behind him, her feet padding on the carpeted stairs. “A certificate isn’t necessarily important—not at the moment anyway. I just need to see my birth records, and if they’re online, that’s all I need.”
Pippin plopped onto his leather gamer chair with its bright orangeedging. He set his Pepsi on a cork coaster. “Why? What do you need them for anyway?”
“I’m curious.” Wren sat on his wall-length desk, her hip balancing on the edge.
Pippin hit a key on his keyboard. His six monitors powered back to life, three mounted on top with three on the bottom. A Netflix show was paused on the bottom right corner. APokémoncartoon. Of course. “About what?” Pippin reached for his headphones.
It wouldn’t necessarily upset Pippin, but she wasn’t ready to share her suspicions, even if her brother’s emotional reactions were practically nonexistent. Would he even be upset if he found out that Dadwasn’ther biological father?
Pippin broke into her thoughts after he typed a string of code. “I’ll help. Just not now. I’ve got to get this coding done.”
Accepting that this was as far as she was going to get with Pippin, Wren slid off his desk and tried not to stomp her way to the stairs like an irritated middle-school girl.
“Hey.” Pippin’s voice stopped her.
She looked over her shoulder.
“I heard they found that missing girl.”
“Trina Nesbitt?”
“Yeah. No sign of Jasmine yet?” At least he was concerned about her, if nothing else.
“No.” Maybe she should confide in him. If Pippin knew she thought maybe she was in danger, then he’d be more inclined to help. She opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. Pippin had turned back to his monitors, his fingers flying across the keyboard as a silent Pikachu battled against some other huge-eyedPokémoncharacter.
“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Eddie straddled a chair as Wren tapped the screen of her tablet. A camper sidled by, hitting Wren’s elbow.
