Page 6 of The Storm

Definitely not that.

I turn around and start to walk, and he falls into step next to me on that narrow trail that seems to shrink in as we walk, like the trees have decided to push us together.

“Mom said you’re old family friends?” Indy says. “Reconnecting. Where do you live? And now you’re going to be all, ‘On the other side of the country, duh.’ And it makes sense what with you visiting for the first time in a while.”

“Pennsylvania,” I say dully.

“Huh.”

I can feel his thoughts moving. I can see the questions forming. Pennsylvania isn’t that far away from Maryland.

We walk in silence for a few steps.

“Any idea what happened?” he asks.

No. Up until a few weeks ago I didn’t even know you existed.

I shake my head instead of saying that.

“I’m sure between you, me, and Dia we can figure it out. She’s great at snooping. This one time?—”

I stop and turn to face him. “Maybe we just walk. In silence.”

His head jerks up, and his hands, which he’s been using to gesture wildly, freeze in place. He winces almost imperceptibly before he fixes the smile back on his face. “I’m talking too much again. I do that sometimes.”

He stops talking. Like I asked him to.

The silence that follows sets my teeth on edge. I imagine turning around and running away.

Then I imagine tripping him.

Pushing him.

Tackling him.

Punching him.

Doing something so out of left field and psychotic I’d be marched out of here with a police escort.

I’d burn all our bridges, and maybe we’d all be better off if I did?

“We’re here,” Indy announces unnecessarily when the house comes back into view.

I walk past him and make my way back to the porch, where everybody is still sitting.

“You found him,” Gus says, sounding almost conspiratorial. “And managed to drag him back to civilization. Very impressive.”

Liz shakes her head and sends her son an exasperated look.

Indy holds his hands up in front of himself. “I know, I know.”

Mom takes my fingers and squeezes them so hard it hurts, but I don’t say anything because it distracts me from thinking too hard about her reaction. Her breathing has that wheezy shallowness to it, so I pour a glass of water and hand it to her, grateful for the distraction.

She sends me a tremulous smile as she takes it.

Indy takes a seat on the other side of the table, right across from me.

For the rest of the afternoon, I feel his increasingly curious gaze on me again and again.