Her Silent Revenge novel Chapter 112

In response, he shakes a whole pile of sprinkles on top of my handiwork once he has the plate.

"There's banana right there on top. It's healthy!" he proclaims through a mouthful of pancake.

Oof.

What if he inherited Patton's sweet tooth and his fighter logic?

"I have a question before you stuff your face," I say, abandoning any hope of being subtle. "What if your dad came back one day? How would you feel?"

Arlo shrugs, more interested in his food than adding another parent to his life.

"What if? We're friends with Grumpybutt." Knowing he's said something he shouldn't, he sends me a wicked glance. "No one's cooler than him. If we're gonna have a guy around, he should be the dude."

The dude.

Yeah, I'm dead.

If there ever was a flashing neon sign from the universe, this is it. I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry hysterically, so I settle for scooping him up and kissing his face, which is already covered in chocolate and sprinkles.

"Mom!" He squeals and this time really does try to wiggle free, smacking the back of his head into my jaw as he goes. But he's laughing, and so am I, because it's like a weight I never knew existed has been lifted away.

I'm free.

We're free.

And I need to tell Patton that I'm sure the big confession won't be a disaster.

This could fix everything if I just screw my head on and do it.

He always wanted me to tell Arlo from the beginning. I just kept looking for reasons why it could shatter everything.

Peering into darkened corners and unspoken words and the gaping distance between Patton's lofty life and mine. But maybe what I actually needed was trust all along.

My phone buzzes from the other room and I head back through to grab it. Maybe it's Patton calling to offer me the coffee I know he's almost certainly gone out to buy.

Only, it's not his name on my screen. Unknown number.

I chew my lip, staring at the phone as it buzzes in my hand again before I swipe and hold it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Salem?"

"She's a nice lady," I agree.

The door flies open and Delly, with her immaculate white pantsuit and pink scarf, beckons us in. The woman has a knack for always looking runway stylish and regal, and today is no exception.

"So glad to see you again!" she gushes. Unlike when I'm talking to Kayla, it doesn't sound forced. "Hi, Arlo. I bet you were missing your tablet, huh?"

"Yeah! I couldn't find it anywhere." He launches into telling her about his hunt with a dramatic style that could rival Indiana Jones. Delly gives me a pat on the arm as she leads me to her dining room.

Evelyn is there, too, clasping a mug of coffee in her hands as she nods at us warmly. She's a little more casual than Delly, but there's no doubt some of her best friend's charm rubbed off, or she's just a natural at looking poised and stylish too.

There's never any doubt she makes a good impression, anyway. It's the way she holds herself, I think.

But is she always like that or is it just the added pressure to blend into this fine house for her extended stay?

Not that I'd blame her one bit.

Just breathing the air here makes me obsess with the infinite ways I don't fit in. Not that it stops either woman from acting like I'm an honored guest.

I give Evelyn a wide smile as I sit. We're in the same boat, her and I— outsiders to the Rory court, even if she's so much closer to being a regular than I am. Still, we should stick together.