Page 145 of Where Broken Wings Fly

Cutting off her protests, I race upstairs and let myself into the spare bedroom. It’s been cleaned and set back to normal since our abrupt exit. Crouching down to look under the bed, I find the box kicked into the corner.

The guys must’ve missed it when they packed up our stuff after my trip to the hospital. Laying down to reach for the box, my ear presses against the floorboards and I can hear Lola’s familiar voice carrying through the ceiling.

“I don’t have room for anyone else,” she says emphatically.

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t urgent.”

“We’ve already taken a case from you this quarter.”

“Please, Lola.”

Someone is pleading with her, a female voice.

“The family lost everything. This is the best place for them right now.”

“You always play on my heartstrings,” Lola berates.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Lola’s response is too muffled to hear. I climb back onto my feet, cursing my curiosity, and flee back downstairs to get out of here without having to speak to Lola.

I’m halted at the bottom of the staircase by Albie stepping through the front door with armfuls of files and paperwork. His silvery head of hair lifts, two eyes landing on me with shock.

“Willow. Surprised to see you here.”

“Hey, Albie. Just picking something up.”

“You tell that man of yours his supply delivery from Highbridge is here.” He pulls off work gloves and sticks them in his denim jacket. “The boxes are in my truck outside.”

“Um, man of mine?”

The twinkle in his eye makes my cheeks flame.

“You’re thinking which one, right?” he jokes. “Don’t worry, there’s no judgement here. I’ll let you tell your Grams, though. She’s darn protective and will flip her shit.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I splutter.

Albie scoffs. “I’m your neighbour, chuck. Not an idiot.”

Unable to offer a single excuse, I remain silent. The last thing I want right now is for Lola to stick her nose in my private business—especially where my complicated relationship with the guys is concerned.

“It’s alright, your secret’s safe with me. You coming in?”

“I have to go,” I lie.

“I don’t think so.” He harrumphs. “Come and see your grandma.”

Albie thumps towards the kitchen in his mud-caked boots. I follow, internally panicking that he’ll spill the beans if I don’t. The last thing I want is for him to blab to Lola that I’m… whatever the hell I am, with all three men across the street.

When I step into the kitchen, Lola’s eyes widen with sheer panic. Sitting opposite her tiny frame, nursing a mug of coffee, is a middle-aged woman that looks a little too familiar for my nerves to take.

Glossy, raven-coloured hair twisted into a neat plait on her head frames her flawless, moss-coloured eyes that seem to shimmer like the surface of a lake. She’s dressed in a smart shirt and jeans, with a sparkling engagement ring resting on her finger.

“Oh,” I hum.

The woman looks up at me, and her automatic smile of greeting causes the twisted pink scar splitting her face to pull taut. I have to swallow the bubble of terror that inches up my throat.

“I found this troublemaker lurking in the hallway.”

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