Page 165 of Under the Lies

Leaving the room, I don’t look back.

And they don’t stop me.

As I walk down the hall, I tell myself to go find Noah, but when I get back out to where everyone’s mingling, I see him still talking to the man from earlier.

Noah looks ready to snap the other man’s neck.

I should save him.

But I don’t.

Instead, I decide to clear my head first.

So with my chin held high, I wander outside, grabbing the first coat I pass on the way, where the noise of the party doesn’t reach.

I trail along the path I’ve had memorized since I was eight years old when I wanted to escape the frigid temperatures of my house. No matter the time of year, I always found the outside to be warmer than in there.

Past the pool, the basketball and tennis courts, through the thin line of trees is a little lake that’s always helped clear my thoughts.

Thankfully my parents have lined the property with little lights in the ground.

Coming here was a mistake. And the disappointment I’m feeling right now is no one’s fault but my own. Why did I think this would be any different than any other party my mother has thrown for me? They always end up with me feeling more battered than loved.

How different my life would’ve been if I knew from the beginning. Would I be like Reeve, a forger? Or like my sister, a thief? Or would I still be me, in grad school wanting to save art instead of steal it?

As weird as it might sound, I’m happy my sister has something she’s good at.

After growing up and hearing my parents say Harlow would never amount to anything, it’s nice to know that she proved them wrong. Even if it’s with something illegal.

What my granddad made gave my sister a way to live her life. Gave Noah’s life a purpose when he was lost and looking for his way. I remember hearing about his parents’ plane crash. How he went to go live with his aunt and uncle in New York. They sent him to boarding school with his cousin in England, not consoling a boy in his time of grief.

He was in England for three years before he came back. His uncle, supposedly, was able to get him access to part of his parents’ trust early, making it so Noah was emancipated by the time he was sixteen.

What if my granddad was the one that saved him?

I’m lost in thought, pulling the borrowed coat tighter around me, when I hear voices build against the night.

“Gabriel! Get your ass back here!” It’s Reeve. And he doesn’t sound happy as I see Gabe briskly walk across the grass in the close distance.

Reeve stomps after him, his hands running through his hair.

Gabe doesn’t stop, not until Reeve sets off in a jog and grabs his elbow, twisting him around. They stand so close, almost chest to chest. Though their tones are anything but hushed.

“What is your fucking problem?” Reeve’s hands are tight on the lapels of Gabe’s jacket. Refusing to let him go. “Why do you always run?”

Gabe shakes his head. “I can’t keep doing this, Reeve. I can’t.”

From where I stand, I can see Reeve’s throat constrict. Struggling. His stance screams that he’s on the brink and he’s trying not to break. “Why?”

One word. One question. And the sadness in his tone has my heart tripping over itself. It sounds so pained, asking around broken glass.

I’ve never thought of Reeve as an emotionally sound being. He finds humor in darkness.

Never did I know he could sound so vulnerable.

My frown pulls at my face as I watch them.

Gabe’s eyes flick toward me for the briefest of moments and he grabs Reeve, pulling him back in the direction of the pool.

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