Page 124 of Never After Us
She nods looking at her arms.“Yeah, cancer.I was in treatment for awhile.It was after the first year when my parents were getting a divorce and Mom said there was no more money for my treatments when my aunt disappeared and married Mario Lafferty.”
Mara’s face flickers—anger, confusion, grief, all passing through her like she doesn’t know which one she’s allowed to land on.
“I thought she didn’t care,” she whispers.“But I’d have rather had her next to me than just making scrapbooks about my life.”She flips another page with trembling fingers.“Will there be some of these about my other cousins?”
Somehow, I know that the answer is no.This is all about her, Mara.And I’m starting to figure out why she’s here in this building, going through Lina’s stuff.I just don’t know if I should tell her my suspicions or just wait until we figure it out.What if I’m wrong?
“Have you talked to your mom about this?”I dare to ask because maybe she could save some time.
Mara looks at me, almost insulted.“I’d rather eat oatmeal.”
I scoff.“That bad, huh?”
“Yep.My mother is ...intense in ways that no one can describe.”She points toward the stairwell.“Mila is a lot like her.Mom will be here before I finish giving her the news, tearing through every box and telling me how much of a screw-up my aunt was.”
“It was just a suggestion.”I shrug.
“You don’t want to meet Laura Cavanagh—” She groans softly—“I’m sorry in advance.”
“Sorry?”
“Even when I’ll try my damnedest to shield you, one day you’ll come face-to-face with her, and I won’t be able to protect you,” she laughs as if she’s already enjoying that moment when I might be attacked by an older version of her.“She’ll have you running the opposite direction within five minutes.”
“No worries,” I say calmly.“I think I developed an immunity to your sunshine.I can definitely take her.”
A faint smile plays on her lips, but her eyes stay fixed on the journal in her lap—the one filled with snapshots of her life with Mila.
Mara taps a page, her finger brushing the edge of a caption.“This is from my last trip.Lisbon.Right before she ...”Her breath snags.
“Do you know who would’ve taken the pictures?”I ask, leaning in to study them.They look fun, intimate really.It’s as if someone had been there—a part of that trip.
“I sent them to Mom,” she says flatly.“It wasn’t a PI like I thought.The lawyer knew how to reach me because Mom kept her updated on everything.The real question is whether she knows my aunt died or ...”
“It makes more sense.”
“This is so weird, isn’t it?”
I glance at the journal.The cover is worn, the ink inside fading in places.But the timeline isn’t lost on me.“There’s almost an entire year of her life missing,” I bring up because it’s obvious that we’re not done.
Mara frowns.“How do you know?”
I tap my temple.“Been mentally tracking the dates.There’s a gap.”
She flips a few more pages, then stops.“That’s probably in the one where she talks about Thomas.How much she loved him and ...”She smirks faintly.“Apparently, they had sex on her sixteenth birthday.”
I clear my throat, trying to sound unbothered when internally, I’m begging for a brain reset.“So she had sex with Thomas?”
“Uh-huh,” she responds absently staring at the letters and the thin journal.“I don’t think I’m going to like what’s in those letters andthatlast journal.”
There’s a tremor in her voice she tries to hide.But I hear it.I’m starting to realize that I’ve learned a lot about her voice by now.
“So, how do you want to proceed?”
“What if I don’t?”Her arms cross tight over her chest.“What if I just ...pretend none of this matters?”
I look at her with sympathy because I think she knows or at least imagines what’s happened already, but doesn’t want to confront it.
“It’s your choice.”
