Page 86 of Our Little Secret

Brooke had known nothing about the loans—not these.

Leah had frequently borrowed a little money from her here and there over the years, never more than a few hundred bucks at a time, all of which she’d always promised to pay back and never had, and finally there was the five grand once before, but this?

So why had Leah come to her for money when it seemed she had an unending source with Neal, all behind Brooke’s back?

Don’t jump to conclusions. There could be a justifiable reason for this.

But why so much this time?

What kind of hold did Leah have over Neal? Was she blackmailing him? Or just preying on his guilt for dumping her years before? Why was Neal—a tough attorney who spent his days negotiating with litigants—such an easy mark for her? Why would he buckle, give her the money she asked for and not confide in Brooke, unless he had something to hide?

That part runs in the family.

“Oh shut up,” she whispered just as she heard footsteps overhead.

Crap!

Someone was coming?

Neal?

She had to get out of here.

She was about to close the file when she caught sight of an addendum and hit the link that led to the legal description of property in Tillamook County, Oregon.

A lien on the cabin on Piper Island?

Nana’s house?

From Leah to Neal?

What the hell?

Her mind spun. Why had Neal kept this a secret? Why would Leah give up her interest in the idyllic childhood spot where they’d vacationed? Why had neither of them confided in Brooke?

Brooke stared at the computer screen, dumbstruck.

More footsteps and a door opening.

She should get out now. How could she explain herself? But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen.

Why was he securing loans with equity in the beach house?

No wonder she had come to Neal.

No way would Brooke have made such a deal.

Their mother and Nana wanted them to have the property on the island together, and it was the one place where they had shared childhood memories. Where Brooke had learned to ride a bike and swim, where Leah had built sandcastles and chased seagulls.

The last, fleeting memories of their father were caught in the pine-paneled walls, exposed beams, and wide back porch overlooking the sea.

And Leah was ready to give it up.

Quietly, she closed the file but didn’t get up, her eyes on the screen as she pushed off the memories of a childhood that was filled with innocence and promise.

She listened.

No more footsteps.

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