Page 2 of Once Hidden
Riley stifled a sigh.She and Bill had gotten married earlier this month, but they’d already spent too much time apart.
“I'm glad you're back,” she said, reaching across to squeeze his hand briefly.
“Me too.”He looked around the table.“So, what have I missed?What's everyone up to this summer?”
Jilly jumped in first.“Freedom,” she declared, stabbing a piece of banana with her fork.“Months without having to think about algebra.”
“I wouldn't get too comfortable,” Riley said.“You’ve still got a hefty summer reading list from your English teacher, remember?”
Jilly rolled her eyes with all the dramatic flair of her sixteen years.“Way to ruin the moment, Mom.”
“Just keeping it real,” Riley said, hiding her smile.Seeing Jilly act like a normal teenager—complete with eye-rolling and dramatic sighs—was something she'd once feared might never happen.After rescuing the girl from the streets of Phoenix and the years of adjustment that followed, these mundane moments of adolescent rebellion felt like gifts.
“What about you, April?”Bill asked, turning to Riley's older daughter.
April looked up.“Summer class at night, work at the Beanery during the day.I’m going to work right after breakfast.I’m taking an Intro to Law Class on nights.”
“That's a full schedule,” Bill said.
“Tell me about it.”April closed her book.“But my advisor says if I can complete these credits over the summer, I might be able to graduate a semester early.”
After all they’d been through, Riley had secretly hoped April might choose a safer future than the FBI would offer.But her daughter had inherited more than just Riley's dark hair and hazel eyes; she'd inherited her stubborn resolve as well.
“And how's the Beanery treating you?”Riley asked.“Any more incidents with that customer who keeps sending his coffee back?”
April laughed, her face lighting up.“Oh my God, you won't believe what happened yesterday.”She leaned forward, suddenly animated.“So, Mr.Three-Pump-Vanilla-Not-Four comes in, right?And Darcy—she's the new girl—she's on register.I try to warn her about him, but it's too late.He places his usual order, and she makes it exactly how he always wants it.”
“Let me guess,” Bill said, reaching for his coffee.“Still wrong?”
“Worse!”April's hands flew up expressively.“He takes one sip and says, 'This isn't what I ordered.'And Darcy—bless her heart—says, 'Sir, I made it exactly how you specified.'And he says, 'Young lady, I've been ordering the same drink for six years.I think I know what I like.'As he stalked away, I told Darcy, ‘Welcome to retail.’”
“Some people,” Gabriela muttered, shaking her head as she sat down with her own plate.
They all laughed, and Riley treasured the sound.These were the moments that made everything else worthwhile—the cases, the darkness, the monsters.These bright islands of normalcy in an ocean of chaos.
“So does your boyfriend ever come into the café?”Jilly asked casually, reaching for another piece of fruit.
The laughter at the table died abruptly.April's fork clattered against her plate, and her face drained of color.Riley looked between her daughters, confused by the sudden shift in atmosphere.
“What boyfriend?”Riley asked, her eyes settling on April.
“Thanks a lot, Jilly,” April hissed, pushing back from the table so quickly that her chair nearly toppled.“I told you that in confidence.”
“Uh—no, you didn’t,” Jilly said.“In fact, you said you were going to tell Mom about—”
Before Jilly could say another word, April was gone, her footsteps pounding up the stairs.The bedroom door slammed a moment later, the sound reverberating through the townhouse.
Jilly stared at her plate.“I didn't think it was a secret.”
“What boyfriend, Jilly?”Riley repeated, more gently this time.
“Some guy named Ethan,” Jilly mumbled.“She told me about him last week.I didn't think it was a big deal.”
Bill caught Riley's eye across the table, an unspoken communication.Go to her.I'll handle things down here.
“Okay,” Riley said, standing up.“I'm going to talk to April.Jilly, help Gabriela with the dishes, please.”
As she climbed the stairs, Riley mentally sorted through what she knew about April's social life—which, she realized with a pang of guilt, wasn't much lately.Between her own cases and teaching at Quantico, she'd been less attuned to the day-to-day details of her daughters' lives than she would have liked.
