Page 102 of The Lies We Conjure
Being found out as imposters.
Losing my sister.
Losing you.
Throat bobbing, I ask him a question instead. “How do you feel about what Evander had to say?”
“The lies?”
“Yes.”
Everything that’s come to light lines up in my mind, in neat little rows among the disaster of this weekend.
His parents’ deaths. Marcos Blackgate’s role. Hector’s deception, his counterparts’ silence. Ursula’s punishment. Evander’s blackmail. Infinity’s meeting. Ada’s title. Hex holding a candle for Winter. Winter’s feelings for someone else—who is looking more and more like Infinity. Infinity, who smelled of Winter’s perfume first thing this morning.
The remaining hidden secrets belong to Auden, my sister, and me.
I wonder if this is apparent to him too. That we’re the only ones left on the table with our cards unturned.
Auden brushes the curling ends of his wet hair off his face. His elbows land on his knees, bare in yet another pair of athletic shorts, the points of them slotting perfectly into the little dips where his quads attach to the tops of his knees. It’s so distracting that if anything is going to calm my mind enough to induce sleep, it might be the surprises he’s been hiding in plain sight.
“Everyone lies, Lavinia, even if they call them secrets instead.”
His eyelashes brush his cheeks as he responds. So many of the mystery books I’ve read, so many of the ones in this room, posit that a person is lying if they look away.
Feeling brave, and perhaps a bit intoxicated about the nearness of Auden in a private room with our terrible reality pressing in and coming closer by the minute, I reach out and crook a finger beneath his chin.
I tilt his face up. And hope that by asking him, he won’t ask me. Honestly, as our secrets scratch the surface, I don’t know if I can hold mine back anymore.
My secret is a lie, and the lie is a secret.
It may not have started as mine, but it is now, and it might be mine to my grave.
“Is yours a secret or a lie, Auden?”
He watches me, his blue-brown eyes sparkling even in the dim, pupils blown wide. This time, he doesn’t look away.
“Depends on your point of view.”
Suddenly, he’s so close that I feel his breath on my cheek, warm and sweet. Now I’m the one compelled to look away, overwhelmed by his nearness.
I dip my spoon into the peanut butter again. This bite sticks to the roof of my mouth as much as my bones, but Auden doesn’t hurry me into more tit for tat. He just sits there, calmly watching the fire crackle in yet another white-marble hearth, his skin still touching mine at the shoulder and now at the place where my cross-legged stance meets the swell of his calf.
After a moment, I make up my mind, gut clenching. My gaze firmly set on the flames, I say, “You aren’t going to ask me if I have a secret? A lie?”
“No.”
My heart stutters. “Why?”
To my surprise, Auden laughs. Low and soft. “Lies and secrets, that’s how the Four Lines have survived. It’s how we’ll keep surviving if we get past this. As much as they hurt and destroy, at their heartmany lies, and certainly secrets, are held close to keep a person and those they love safe.”
Auden screws the lid back on the peanut butter, and when he balances his spoon atop it, I add mine to form a littleX. When I’ve got it set and pull back, I’m surprised when he softly snatches my hand for himself.
Again. Purposefully.
He turns toward me, though his attention is on our fingers, laced. Unquestionably, two made one. He’s become very good at avoiding my bunny bracelets.
Somehow, what he says next feels even more intimate.
