I sit down and pour a cup for myself, sighing with pleasure as I take my first sip.
This is really good coffee. Not like the weak swill at Father’s house.
“Here you go,” Kit says, putting a loaded plate in front of me. “Dig in!”
I look down at the greasy, salty food, and my stomach shudders a bit.
“Thank you,” I mutter, not looking at him. “It’s a bit much for me, though. I would have been fine with some fruit and yogurt, maybe some muesli.”
“Oh. Okay,” Kit says, sounding disappointed.
“It’s alright,” I say quickly. “I could use some protein, and the eggs are good.”
Silence falls between us as we focus on our food, and it’s not a comfortable one. I end up staring at my plate so I don’t have to look up and think of something to say.
As I’m cutting into my last fried egg and wondering how to leave the room gracefully, Kit’s phone buzzes.
“Oh, it’s about a meeting,” he says as he looks at the phone. “I’ll be heading out soon. Do you want to come?”
“No,” I mumble. “Not really.”
“I can give you my card so you can go shopping. Buy anything you want—food, things for the house, clothes. I had to borrow those clothes from my neighbor, Betty.”
“Thank you,” I answer, looking up at him. “I really appreciate that you thought of it.”
Kit smiles, and the warmth on his face touches me. He’s genuinely pleased to have done something nice for me, and I don’t think he did it just to earn points with me. He was genuinely concerned about my comfort.
“So, if you come into town, you can buy a whole new wardrobe if you want,” he says. “Anything you like.”
“Look, Kit,” I say, sighing as I push my plate away. “I should go with you and get some clothes, but I just can’t handle it right now. I’ve been on the—I mean, I’ve been traveling for a long time, and I just need some rest and time to myself.”
I really don’t want anyone, especially Kit, to know I’ve been running for my life. I’ve had enough complications that I can’t pile his reaction, whatever it may be, on top of this.
“Okay,” he answers. “Did you just want to stay here?”
“I might go for a little walk,” I reply.
Even though it’s risky and stupid, I want to go back to the woods and see what happened to my mother’s body. I know there is very little chance I’ll find anything useful, but deep inside me is a fierce, relentless pain that demands to know what happened to her.
“Sure,” Kit answers, nodding. “We can set you up with clothes later.”
He gets up to rinse his cup, and suddenly, I don’t want him to go. Questions blister on my tongue as it dawns on me that he might know what happened.
He was involved with the patrols! If there was anything to find, he might know…
“Kit!” I say far too loudly.
“Yes?” he asks, turning back around.
“Did you know what… I mean, I left town so quickly. I don’t know what happened to the house or… any of my things.”
My voice trails off as I watch Kit’s expression change. His eyes widen, and all the color drains out of his face.
He looks like he’s going into shock!
What the fuck?
“The house was claimed by pack, the property and contents sold for revenue,” he says, his voice tight. “Your mother… your mother was given a proper burial.”
