Page 32 of The Roads We Follow

“Sorry, but I’m locked in a verbal contract with your mother. I’m not allowed to disclose that information to any of—”

I swipe his coffee from the cup holder. “You will if you want your caffeine.”

He eyes me as if trying to size up my threat. “You do realize that’s my third cup this morning, right? Some of us don’t wait until nearly ten to grace the world with their presence.”

I begin to slide the window open and take the lid off his travel mug.

“Whoa, whoa—okay, yes. You’re going to the public bathhouse, although for you gals it won’t be very public seeing as your mom rented the entire place out for the day. She sounds pretty jazzedabout it.” He arches an eyebrow at me. “I gather you’re not a morning person.”

I slide the window closed and slump back in my seat. “Not this morning, I’m not.”

“Why’s that?” he asks, the concern in his voice tugging at some invisible chain inside me.

“Forget it.” I stretch my neck side to side and try to recalibrate. “I’ll be fine.”

“Feelings inside not expressed.”

I twist to look at him. “Excuse me?”

“That’s whatfinestands for. It’s a cop-out people use when they want to avoid having a real conversation.”

I eye him strangely. “That’s a ... really weird thing to say.”

“Maybe, but it’s true.”

I think on my answer, knowing I can’t possibly disclose Chip’s findings to him or tell him how I’m planning to break into my sister’s laptop after she goes to bed tonight to scope out information on the fired employee. But the way he keeps glancing at me breaks down my good judgment. Before I can stop myself, I ask, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“If you knew some ... some potentially critical information that could cause pain to someone you loved, would you confess what you knew immediately, regardless of circumstance? Or do you think there’s a right time and place to divulge a painful truth?”

His gaze flares with surprise before he schools his expression into something more pensive. It’s as if he’s working to read between each one of my chosen words. “I think the answer depends on what you value most.”

“How do you mean?”

His face remains contemplative as he navigates the bus toward the exit ramp. “What if you tried flipping the question around on yourself? Would you feel loved if someone waited for the perfect time and place to tell you that same painful truth? Or would youwant to know immediately ‘regardless of circumstance,’ as you put it?”

Guilt chews at my subconscious even after I say, “I’d value the thoughtfulness of how and when I’m told.” His silence is causing me to second-guess my stance. “What about you?”

“The truth, regardless of circumstance,” he says without missing a beat.

His conviction is a gavel strike to my ribs, and perhaps that’s why I can’t quite bring myself to meet his eye again. If Micah knew the specifics of what I’m dealing with, would he feel the same? Or would he understand this murky gray area I find myself in now?

We begin to descend into a small city folded inside a valley. Sunshine and mountains surround us, and Micah slowly weaves the bus down multiple streets. A few minutes later, when we turn into a parking lot, I jump as Hattie squeals for everybody to look out the windows. I twist to see a street lined with ornate buildings to my right—bathhouses. I count eight in total. The architecture is breathtaking. Some of them look like they could be photographed in a European history book, while others boast more of a mythical, ethereal vibe. All are as unique as they are intricate.

Micah circles to find a place to park our mammoth tour bus.

“This is a very special place,” Mama announces. “Jana has arranged for us all to spend the day here, soaking in the mineral baths that come directly from the town’s natural hot spring. Adele, with your new interest in health and wellness, I think you’ll find the health benefits to your liking. There’s even a steam cave they’ve opened for us to enjoy at our leisure.” Mama’s arms swing open wide. “The best part is we’ll get to experience it together. They have robes and towels for us inside; just wear your suits.”

“Oh, I could cry—you’re giving us a spa day, Mama?” Hattie claps her hands together. “This is the best road trip ever.”

Apparently, she didn’t have the same start to her morning as I did.

“Micah, will you be staying inside the bus?” Adele asks witha quarter of Hattie’s enthusiasm. “I need to know how securely I should lock up my personal items.”

I glance at Micah who, for some reason, is looking at me when he says, “I was actually planning to hike one of the trails in the Hot Springs National Forest.” He picks up his phone and studies the screen, and even from here I can see the flashing red heat advisory.

“You can’t go hiking in the forest—it’s a billion degree outside.” Hattie’s brow furrows. “Mama, tell Micah he’s invited to come with us.”

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