I slowly turned and fixed my attention on the side of my uncle’s profile. He stared into the fire as if it were challenging him to look away, which he wouldn’t because, deep down, he was an Underwood, even if he didn’t claim the name, and Underwoods never backed down from a fight. “He’s, uh… I owed him a favor. He asked me to take in his niece because she was a troublemaker.”
I laughed without hesitation. “A troublemaker?”
He scoffed. “Yeah. And it’s obvious that it’s not true.”
We stood in silence for a few more minutes before he turned his head to mine, and I did the same to him. We locked eyes, held each other there for too long before he said, “He’s hiding something.”
I nodded once. “So is she.”
“She’s fragile and scared.”
“Scared? Yes. Fragile? Debatable.” I thought back to her snarky little attitude the first couple of times we’d talked. She may have been shy at times, and she blushed so much it was actually cute, and she was definitely afraid of her uncle, but she had a fighting streak in her. She wasn’t as breakable as my uncle thought.
My uncle sighed again before walking back over to his desk and slumping down behind it. “She reminds me of someone I used to know.” He looked back at the fire instead of at me, and it was like he wasn’t fully there. Like he was revisiting the past as the orange and red flames coursed with life. “She was a fighter by nature, but she was sweet, too. Kind.”
More silence passed between us, and I finally went back and sat in the seat I was in before. I was sure the sun was beginning to rise, and I was eager to get to the dining hall to not only see Gemma, but to catch sight of Bain too. He’d disappeared last night when he’d snuck out during my tutoring session with Gemma. That was why things had been cut short, and it infuriated me that I’d lost track of him. I never did that. The only good thing was that I’d made it back to my room without being caught by the duty teacher.
“Have you talked to your father?”
I shifted uncomfortably at the change in the conversation. “No. I did talk to Jack, though. Mom must be feeling down lately. He said he’s been spending a lot of time with Mary.”
“That’s probably a good thing.”
My mouth stayed closed, but it was the truth. Mary was a sense of normal, and normal was what Jack needed.
“Gemma needs a phone.”
My uncle’s head fell to the side as his mouth slanted. “I can’t give her a phone. How would I explain that if anyone found out?”
I shrugged. “How do you explain giving her a laptop, blankets, and those extra uniforms?”
His eyes narrowed. “How did you know I did that?”
“Uncle Tate”—I crossed my arms over my chest—“you know I have my ways.”
He rolled his eyes and rubbed his hand over the scruff on his chin. Then, he pulled his bottom drawer out and scooped up something before dropping it on his desk. Several phones clinked together from his arms. “Take your pick. It’ll only work on the Wi-Fi, so pick one that is adaptable to your phone for messaging.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, picking up a phone that was identical to mine. I assumed they were confisc
ated in the past when phones were banned, or maybe students had accidentally left them behind and didn’t want to come back here for even a second to grab it. I didn’t really care. All I cared about was Gemma having a phone. Not only so I could talk to her when I felt like it, instead of waiting for her to get on her computer to chat, but also because Bain was a troublesome thought in the back of my head when it came to her.
Gemma needed a way to call me quickly if he decided to corner her again, which I knew he would. Bain was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. He would wait until I wasn’t near to do so.
“Keep her close, Isaiah.” I shook myself from the thoughts and regained focus on my uncle as determination covered his features like a steel mask. “I have an inkling that something much bigger than what we think is going on with Judge Stallard.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, eyeing the clock. Breakfast started in five minutes.
He shook out his unkempt hair. “He doesn’t have any siblings.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Her uncle, Judge Stallard. He said Gemma is his niece, but he doesn’t have a sister or brother. Nor does he have a wife—or anyone in the family with the Richardson surname.” He looked around his office at nothing in particular. “I’ve looked into it. I don’t think Gemma is related to him—which makes me wonder where she came from.”
I let out a breath as I stood and placed Gemma’s new phone in my pocket. “Well, that’s… interesting…and, quite frankly, not comforting in the fucking least.”
The things going through my head were dark and twisted, which I knew were a direct result of how I grew up. I wasn’t a stranger to gruesome upbringings and traumatic pasts, but it didn’t sit well with me to think those things about Gemma.
“I suspect abuse.”