Page 81 of Silent Heart

Saturday morning spent helping my grandmother with the weekly baking was cathartic. Not needling me with questions, grandma packed the moments full the sights, sounds, and smells of home. Nostalgia soothed my soul. Mind cleared, I was prepared to eat a sandwich bundled in a blanket on the lower deck with some more studying. As I pushed out the front door to walk around the path instead of accessing the lower deck via my cousin’s sliding door in the basement, a truck came to a stop.

I pursed my lips as the pixie cut the engine and hopped down. “I didn’t know you could drive.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Cami Joe protested, slamming the door behind her. “We need to talk.”

I sighed. “Do you want some lunch?”

Cami peered at my paper plate. “That looks good, sure.”

“When we go inside, don’t say anything about last night,” I warned. I wasn’t able to process the connection between Cami and the family staying at the McTavish place, but I sure as hell didn’t need my grandma poking her nose into the tangled mess.

Cami gave me a short nod and followed me into the kitchen.

“Gran?” I called out softly.

My grandmother turned her Barcalounger to look and yelped in surprise. “Oh, hello! Welcome.”

“This is my friend from school. She’s up in the Lake Geneva area with family but stopped over to compare notes for the next module,” I explained as I pulled out the sandwich items.

Cami assembled the meal and exchanged pleasantries with my grandma. A small seed of jealousy sprouted in my gut over the fact that Gran seemed impressed with Cami’s course of study to become a trauma surgeon—like on the TV shows. We’d baked all morning, and Grandma didn’t find becoming a vet as fascinating as this. Granted, we’d talked a lot about school, more than I’d expected, but there wasn’t this note of fascination in her voice.

I grabbed the bag of potato chips, a can of soda, and led Cami back outside.

“Why do I get the sense you’re upset?” she pressed, once the door was shut.

I sighed. “It’s a long, twisted family history. I don’t want to bother you with it.”

Cami Joe barked a laugh. “Can’t be any more fucked up than mine.”

My eyeballs felt like they were going to fall out as I did a second take. “Cami Joe, did you just swear?”

“Yeah, don’t tellmygrandmother. She’s not afraid to wash my mouth out with soap for that kind of language.” From the dead serious tone, I knew Cami wasn’t joking.

“Strict.” I folded into a chair, settled my food on my lap, and then pinned her with a look.

“So…you’re probably wondering how I know the guys from last night?” She fidgeted with her sandwich.

The nervousness in her voice had me sitting up straighter. “Are you okay, Cami?” I asked in a hushed tone.

She snapped her gaze to mine. “Oh, yeah! Nothing bad. They’re my family.”

The air left my lungs. Family. Lucas and Kash…Kole.

“Luka didn’t say we were going away this weekend, I swear!” She threw up her hand as if she were taking an oath. “I thought we were going to nonna’s cabin, like we always do. But Luka wanted to close up the big house for the season, and I realized we’d be in the neighborhood. That was why I planned to stay inside, in case you were running errands. I didn’t think you’d be boating at night—which is really cool by the way! Do you think you can take me out on the water? Teach me to drive the boat.”

“Hold up.” I swallowed hard. “Let’s rewind for a second.Luka?Who the hell is that?”

“Oh, shit.” Cami caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “What is the name he goes by? Luke? Lucius?”

“Lucas?” I drew the name out.

Cami gave me a sheepish look. “Yeah, his real name is Luka.”

Real name. Why the hell would someone need to give out fake names? My stomach suddenly protested the idea of food. I set the paper plate on the side table and clasped my hands.

“The others? You?” I kept the shake from my voice.

“I am Cami Joe, but it’s short for Camilla Giuseppina, like yours is short for Hariet.” She gave me one of her bright, genuine smiles. “I live with my grandma, her husband, and my sister Brittany, who I facetime with.”

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