I spend the next minute drumming up worst-case scenarios. What if he takes me back to the shitty foster home where Jesse and I lived? I may be biased, considering Jesse hated that place with every fiber of his being, but I’m not particularly interested in filling in the gaps of my brother’s trauma with visuals. Jesse’s never had anything positive to say about those people, and from what I could gather? The slander was justified.
To recap, our foster dad was a drunk, our foster mom was in it for the money, and our hardened-by-life foster siblings were big on the “eat or be eaten” law. There was no love, no mercy, no peace to be found between these walls, and to make things worse, this is the home where Jesse ended up staying the longest.
I was an infant back then, therefore too young to remember anything, and Jesse used to call me lucky for it. He said memories of that time were a burden he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy.
My worries about our foster home quickly evaporate when Finn takes a left and comes to a stop in front of a discolored brick building. He kills the engine across the street from the establishment, and it takes me a minute to understand where we are.
A blue sign sits near the parking lot entrance, the bold letters at the top saying “Redwater Medical Center.”
A hospital.
Of all the places Finn could’ve taken me, he chose this one?
We sit in silence for a few seconds, my eyes scanning the area for a clue. I can’t seem to figure out what he needs to show me around here. I speak before the suspense drives me mad.
“A hospital?” I ask, and Finn unbuckles his seat belt.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you,” he confesses.
“W-What do you mean?” I clear my throat.
He inhales another breath, as if he’s running low on courage, and says, “Do you remember when I was taking all those mysterious phone calls?”
I easily pinpoint the period he’s referring to. It was around the time Remy sent me the sex tape. Finn kept getting random phone calls throughout the day, and I’d come to notice a pattern. He’d always walk out of the room to answer this specific person, which struck me as weird because when he answered calls from his friends, he usually picked up in front of me.
I accused him of being on the phone with Remy the day I saw the video, but then we broke up, and that part of the story was overshadowed by my broken heart.
I nod. “I remember thinking you were hiding something from me.”
“That’s because I was.” His honesty shocks me.
Fear stirs in my gut.
He carries on when I don’t answer. “I’ve been in contact with a private investigator since last summer.”
I expected many things, but this? I didn’t see it coming by any stretch of my imagination.
“But… why would a PI contact you?”
Finn doesn’t miss a beat. “Because I hired her.”
The more he says, the more confused I grow.
“I don’t understand. Why would you need a PI?”
He’s silent for a while, debating on taking this further.
“Tell me,” I command.
“I hired her to look into you.”
His words haven’t had a chance to sink in when he adds, “Well, you and your family…”
“Why would you do that?” I realize how stupid the question sounds as soon as it escapes my mouth.
I know why. But I still need to hear him say it.
“To dig up dirt,” he admits.