Buttoning the collar of Kaleb’s flannel around my neck, I look at Noah’s torn shirt laying on top of the car and pull my hat over my head before pushing the door open.
“Tiernan!”
“I’m here,” I say, stepping out into the snow and pulling my coat on as Noah jerks around at my voice.
“What the hell?” he scowls and walks over, his cheeks as bright red as his hoodie as the wind blows the ends of his hair that are peeking out of his hat. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. I was just in there. Where were you hiding?”
I open my mouth, but the door behind me creaks open, Noah’s eyes darting over my shoulder. Kaleb steps out, snow falling into his hair as he fastens his belt and gives his brother a hard stare.
I groan inwardly.
“Oh,” Noah mumbles.
Blowing out a breath, I turn, looking back at him.
His hesitant eyes dart between Kaleb and me, but he thankfully swallows whatever he wants to say. Holding up my phone, he tosses it to me. “Phone call. It keeps ringing.”
I unlock the screen, seeing several missed calls from Mirai.
Shit. This can’t be good.
I dial her back and hold the phone to my ear as I head back toward the house.
“Tiernan,” she answers after the third ring.
“Hey, what’s up?”
I climb the stairs and head for the door, my nerves on alert, hearing the alarm in her voice.
“I didn’t want to call you,” she says, “but I don’t want you to find out about it through anyone else.”
I swing the door open and kick the snow off my boots before entering the house. Found out about what?
“The Daily Post published an article, claiming several sources, that your father…”
Dread seeps in, and I almost hang up the phone. I hadn’t realized how nice it’s been, not letting the world in, and I really don’t think I want to know.
But she wouldn’t have called unless it was important.
“What?” I ask, pulling off my coat.
“That your father was abusive to your mother,” she tells me. “That he forced her to die with him.”
“What?” I blurt out.
How would they come up with that conclusion? And they have sources?
Because I don’t remember anyone else being in the house that night to witness anything.
I clench the phone in my hand, but I immediately ease up. Why would anyone speculate something like that? What purpose does it serve?
“Tiernan?” Mirai prompts.
I swallow. “Yes.”
I walk into the kitchen, the scent of the deer stew Jake has simmering filling the air as Kaleb and Noah enter the house behind me. Jake turns from the sink and meets my eyes. I look away.
“We know it’s not true,” Mirai continues, “but there’s little we can do about this, and—”