Page 88 of Stuck with my Mechanic Daddies

My uncle had been hiding something from me, and now, it was tearing apart everything he left behind.

I leaned back, staring at the flames in the fireplace, but they offered no warmth, no comfort.

“What do I do now?” I asked quietly, the weight of it all pressing down on me. “Maybe find Beatrice?”

Nancy didn’t answer right away. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before speaking again.

“I don’t have the answers, sweetie. But maybe someone else does. Someone who’s been around Medford long enough to know more than they let on.”

I nodded, trying to digest everything she’d told me. It was a lot.

It felt like every time I thought I was getting closer to understanding my uncle’s death, more questions opened up.

How could he have been blackmailed? Who was this person he owed? And why hadn't anyone told me about it sooner?

Was the break-in connected to this? It had to be.

And then there was Hank Lawson, yelling at me at the festival. But if it was him, wouldn’t he have just told me about the debt instead of being so cryptic?

A heavy silence settled between us, broken only by the crackling fire.

My mind raced, turning over Nancy’s words, trying to make sense of them.

If my uncle had been blackmailed, if he had owed someone a life-altering debt, then whoever was behind this legal battle for Page Turners might not just be some opportunistic investor.

Maybe they were connected.

“Well, thank you for letting me know.”

She smiled sadly. “I wish I could do more. If you need anything, please let me know.”

I didn’t want to think about it anymore, so I made my way upstairs to my room, needing to escape the tension.

The door clicked behind me as I stepped into the quiet space, and I sank onto the bed, feeling the exhaustion of the day seep into my bones.

I tried to push everything out of my mind, but it wasn’t working.

Everything kept circling back to Page Turners, to my uncle, to the claim against my ownership, and to my other life.

My real life.

I was stuck.

Torn between the life I was building here and the future I’m supposed to have. Between loyalty to my uncle’s memory and my own aspirations.

Whatever they were.

I stood up, needing to clear my head. I went into the bathroom, the cool tile floor a welcome relief beneath my feet.

As I reached for my toothbrush, my eyes drifted to the counter where I had left the small box of tampons.

My stomach dropped.

It had been weeks.

I hadn't even realized at first, the constant stress of everything clouding my mind, but now that I saw them, the thought hit me like a punch to the gut.

My period. I’d missed it.

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