Page 34 of Please Open Me
“Is there a reason?” I pressed, trying to get as much on the record as possible.
“Because three kids are enough?” He chuckled nervously. “Why is this coming up?”
I shrugged. “No reason.”
Seb nodded like I was the weird one—and, to be fair, he was probably right. He slipped out of the room, probably afraid I’d ask a hundred more questions.
Once I was alone with the video call, I turned to Momma and shot her a self-satisfied smirk.
Every time I felt good about the work I’d done, Momma made it her personal mission to ruin it. I thought having Sebastian explain—pretty much to her face—that he didn’t want more kids would be solid evidence.
But of course, Momma disagreed.
I hadn’t gone through all the hoops to “legally obtain” the information. And she swore up and down that Sebby could still be lying, which he wasn’t.
But she couldn’t know that. She wasn’t here.
Ugh.
Why did Sebby have to tell me about the other guy?
My life would be so much easier if I just offed Momma. But I couldn’t. So instead, I sat through a meeting that ran another two hours.
By the time I finally got the old bat off the call, it was well past lunch. That meant all the kids should’ve been at daycare, and the brothers should’ve been at work. It wasn’t too hot out, so I figured Cameron would be outside—workingthe property or pretending to—but that theory fell apart the second I came downstairs.
Cam wasn’t tending the farm at all.
He was sitting at the kitchen island, talking to Mason while she snacked on something I couldn’t see. They were close—too close. Their shoulders brushed like magnets, and their voices were low, like they didn’t want anyone else to hear.
Which was rude.
I stood at the bottom of the stairs for a second, peering through the archway like a Peeping Tom. Mason’s hand rested on the counter, and Cameron brushed his fingers across it.
I tilted my head, trying to figure out if the gesture was meant to be seductive… or reassuring.
And if it was the latter, why did Mason need reassurance?
She leaned in and whispered something into his ear. Cameron stiffened. I couldn’t see his face, but his posture shifted—like someone had just handed him a freshly hatched bird and told him not to drop it.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his deep drawl barely audible.
Mason nodded.
And Cameron froze again.
Not only was this rude, it was suspicious. So I did the only reasonable thing: I waltzed into the kitchen like I hadn’t just been spying on them.
“Good morning!” I sang, heading for the fridge.
Both of them jumped like they’d been caught in the middle of something illegal.
Which… maybe they had.
I hummed to myself as I pulled sandwich supplies from the fridge, keeping one eye on Mason. Normally, she had lunch ready for me and Cam by noon sharp. But today?
Nothing.
I paused mid-reach, turkey in hand, and frowned. She wasn’t feeling well this morning. Said so herself. But maybe it was more than that.
