Page 27 of Between the Lines

“Huh.” She balances on her toes to step over the cracked driveway. “You’re a very interesting person,” she mutters.

I smirk, shaking my head.

Yeah, I’m the interesting one?

10

Fia

Apparently shoving everything into black trash bags and jumping on the trunk of my car to close it isn’t “correct.”

I wouldn’t know, I’ve never had to move before.

“I forgot my water bottle, be out in a sec!” I call to Caden as he sits in his Jeep, and I burst back through my front door.

I grab my water and stall in the foyer. The sturdy oak staircase stretches up to the second floor, to the bedrooms my siblings and I once all occupied. Generations have lived in this house and have found sanctuary here.

Scanning the family photos scattered across the butter-yellow walls, my eyes suddenly get misty.

“I’ll be back, Nan,” I whisper. “Take care of the house while I’m gone.” I kiss my fingertips and place them on the front door before pulling it shut behind me.

The lump in my throat gets tighter as I drive away.

Fifteen minutes later, I pull off the busy road, turning down a densely wooded, quiet street. It probably would’ve been only ten minutes, but holy crap, Caden drives as slow as a turtle, and I’m at the mercy of following him. Seriously, I almost honked a few times as he cruised along, shirtless, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

I’ve never been to this part of Wilmington, and as I slow down, I swivel to peer between the tall pines and thick evergreens. Stately homes sit far back from the road, barely noticeable unless you were searching.

“Where the hell are we?” I whisper as Hamburger yowls in his carrier on the seat beside me.

I don’t even know what the rental property looks like, but Caden assured me that he recently finished furnishing and painting the place. However, I’m now praying I didn’t agree to live in a creepy shack in the woods.

My stomach knots as Caden turns left between two black metal posts.

He’s right, I would’ve never found this place on my own.

The first thing I notice, beyond the fact that this property feels like a hidden estate, is that the driveway isn’t bumpy with weeds growing through cracks. It’s smooth and black as night. I lean into my steering wheel to get a better look at the house up ahead.

A striking white-brick house with black-trimmed windows sits surrounded by lush grass and blooming blue hydrangeas. It’s large enough for a family of six, minimum.

“This can’t be right . . .” I glance at myself in the mirror and adjust my hair. I look as frazzled as I feel right now.

Caden rolls right past the white-brick house. A sigh of relief shudders through me.

If that’s not the rental—which would be absurd—then where is it?

Fifty feet beyond the back of the house, we come to a stop in front of a detached four-car garage.

I step out, my car beeping at me as I leave the keys in the ignition.

“This is it,” Caden says, meeting my eyes briefly as he slips on a white T-shirt and comes around to the back of his car, opening the hatch.

“The garage?” I ask, my head a bit woozy.

He shakes his head and points towards the backyard of the big house, where a stone path lined with colorful flower bushes leads to a small white-brick cottage. It’s like a miniature version of the large house but one story. It has expansive windows in the front and a sleek black roof. A stone patio and luxurious swimming pool separate it from the main house.

I sulk up to my boss, shielding my eyes from the sun. My head spins with so many questions, I’m not even sure where to start.

“Do you always drive fifteen under the speed limit?”