Chapter 32
Nina
Later, when I make it back to my family’s hotel suite, I’m surprised to find the rooms empty. There’s no note from my uncle or aunt. No text messages either.
Based on the hour, I’m guessing they went out to dinner? My stomach rumbles as the thought crosses my mind. Something delicious and warm and nutritiously filling sounds amazing. But I don’t want to get my hopes up anticipating they might bring something back for me.
Instead, I grab a granola bar, then check my watch. It’s a little after seven. They could still be out for a while.
I should check Uncle Aaron’s computer.
The moment the thought pops into my mind, I break out into a cold sweat.
Sure, I’d asked Harmony for the password with the intention of using it, but the plan felt vague and distant this morning.
Now, with an empty hotel suite and access to Uncle Aaron’s computer, the possibility has swiftly become a reality.
Shoot.
Reminding myself that Uncle Aaron is a liar and has hurt people, lots of people, I approach his room with a firmer resolve.
I’m doing this to help Wes, yes, but I’m also doing it for all the people Uncle Aaron has hurt.
I’m doing it for me, for the little girl who just needed someone to love her but instead got trampled again and again and again.
No one deserves to feel that way. The reminder, repeated like a mantra, carries me the rest of the way.
Even though the hotel suite is so silent I know no one else could be here, I hesitate outside the closed door to Uncle Aaron’s room, knocking once, then again. Silence. “Uncle Aaron? Aunt Hope?” More silence. I knock one last time to be certain no one’s there.
Then I enter the room.
It’s the biggest room in the suite, with a king bed, a small sofa, a walk-in closet, a bureau, a desk, and an en suite bathroom. Despite the size, I zero in almost immediately on Uncle Aaron’s laptop on the desk.
Holy guacamole. A part of me was hoping it would be hidden, so I’d have to report back to Morrie that I’d tried and failed, oh well, can’t be helped, back to square one. (Cowardice.)
I try to summon up the mental image of one of my favorite inspirational GIFs. Maybe Walt Disney, telling me if I can dream it, I can do it? I don’t know if trespassing into someone’s private computer files was exactly what Mr. Disney had in mind, but it does make me feel more resolved.
WWHTMKGL&DD, I remind myself sternly.
Then I open Uncle Aaron’s laptop and type in the password.
To my astonishment, it works. I know it shouldn’t be surprising that his own daughter knows his password, especially since he and Harmony are so close, but some part of me was expecting an alarm to go off. Uncle Aaron to come bursting out of the closet. God to strike me dead.
Instead, I stare at the computer screen, wondering how to get started. It may be surprising to learn I’ve never broken into someone’s computer for the FBI before. Where does one hide proof of illegal wrongdoings? Without any better ideas, I click on the Documents folder.
Most of the file names seem pretty mundane.
Then again, I have no idea what I’m looking for.
But none of them are labeled anything like “Super Shady Business Deals” or “Illegal Things I’ve Done.
” I guess that may have been hoping for too much, but it sure would have made my job a lot easier.
Very inconsiderate of Uncle Aaron not to mark his white-collar criminal activities more clearly.
If that internal dialogue isn’t clue enough, I am not very good at this whole being-an-FBI-informant thing.
I’m halfway determined to inform Wes and Morrie that this was a mistake, I’m clearly useless, when I see something strange.
Near the bottom of the files list is an unmarked folder.
When I click on it, I jump as the computer emits a trill, my heart racing from the unexpected sound.
A message box pops up, demanding a password to proceed.
Look, I’m no special agent, or mastermind criminal for that matter, but it seems to me if I’d committed a crime I didn’t want anyone to know about, I’d hide it in a folder with its own secret password.
With shaking hands, I type in the same one I used to log in to the computer. The laptop emits another trill, this one sounding mildly disapproving. Incorrect password, the message box reads.
I have no way to know what another password might be.
It could be anything, from another Bible verse to one of his favorite hymns to something completely random.
If I try too many incorrect options, I worry the computer might lock me out—or worse, send an alert to Uncle Aaron that someone’s trying to access this content.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the flash drive Morrie gave me just in case I found anything.
I insert it into the laptop and begin downloading the folder, checking my watch anxiously.
Knowing my family, it won’t be too much longer until they get back.
Uncle Aaron believes it’s a bad idea to be out past eight o’clock, unless in service of the Lord.
I’m actually not sure why. Presumably because the devil works in darkness?
Or maybe he just gets sleepy after eight.
I can’t really judge him for that. For other things, sure, but not for that.
While I wait for the file to finish processing, I cross over to the window and glance down at my view of the front entrance below . . .
Just in time to see Uncle Aaron, Aunt Hope, and my three younger cousins walk through the front entrance of the Lodge and into the lobby.
No, no, no, no, no! I race over to the laptop, checking on the progress of the file.
Only 78 percent completed. My mind races.
Should I abandon the download and cover my tracks?
I don’t know when I’ll get another chance to access Uncle Aaron’s computer, though.
Normally I’m left home alone more often than anyone else in the family, but on this trip, I’m almost never in the suite without somebody else there.
I have to take this chance. Don’t I?
WWHTMKGL&DD.
I run through all the calculations of how long it will take my family to arrive at our suites. Maybe the elevator will stall. Maybe someone will chat with them for a moment at the front desk.
I check the progress of the download again: 84 percent. It’s moving pretty quickly, but will it be fast enough?
I pace the room, jumping at every noise, certain it’s my family coming into the suite.
I shamelessly chew on my nails, even though Uncle Aaron always says it’s a disgusting, unladylike habit.
Then again, if he catches me breaking into his laptop and copying files for the FBI, my nails will be the least of his worries. So at least there’s that.
Ninety-six percent. Just another 4 percent and I’ll be in the clear . . .
This time when I hear a sound, it really is the door to the suite opening.
I freeze. Shoot. No, we’re past that now.
Shit! It’s too late for me to leave the room without anyone noticing.
I can hear my family out in the main room, talking loud enough for me to hear their voices but not what they’re saying.
One hundred percent. I hastily remove the flash drive, close out all the files, and shut the laptop screen.
The top of the computer is warm from use.
Uncle Aaron will know someone’s been using it if he touches it in the next few minutes, but I can’t worry about that now.
I have to get out of here without raising any alarms about why I was in the room. But how—
The door to the bedroom starts to open. I dart into the bathroom, grab something off the counter, and come back out just as Uncle Aaron walks in.
He stiffens at the sight of me. “Antonina. What are you doing in here?” His tone is harsh, reprimanding, with none of the surface-level charm he uses to schmooze new parishioners or important people he wants to impress.
He wrote me off a long time ago as not being someone whose good opinion he feels the need to concern himself with.
I do my best to smile, like he doesn’t make it obvious every time he speaks to me just how much he hates me. “Sorry! We need more toilet paper in the other bathroom so I thought I’d check to see if they gave you any extra in here.” I hold up the roll in my hand. “Do you mind?”
Don’t look at the laptop, Nina, I tell myself sternly. Keep smiling. Don’t look at the laptop! Somehow, I manage to obey myself, even though my guilty eyes keep wanting to stray from my uncle’s piercing gaze.
“Fine.” Uncle Aaron waves me out of the room with a dismissive gesture.
I don’t wait for him to say anything else. Scrambling toward the door, I stop only when Uncle Aaron’s voice reaches me. “Antonina?”
It feels like someone is playing ping-pong with my heart. Swallowing, I turn back to face Uncle Aaron. “Yes?”
He stands in the darkened room, face shrouded in shadow, so I can’t see his expression. Even so, I’m sure he’s somehow figured out what I’m doing. He knows. How does he know?
“Harmony’s producer informed us we’ll be meeting her final contestants this week.”
It’s so far from what I’m expecting him to say that for a long moment, I can only stare at him. “Oh?” I say finally, when it becomes clear he’s waiting for a response.
“It probably goes without saying,” Uncle Aaron continues, in that same calm, quiet voice, “that you won’t be joining us for those meetings.”
They shouldn’t hurt me this way—these cold, detached words coming from a man I no longer like or respect—but they still hit me like a blow.
And they were intended to. It would take so little effort for Uncle Aaron to include me, or even to explain things in a way that wouldn’t devastate me.
Thinking back on it, I can recall so many times when these little slights were delivered in exactly the right manner to wound and humiliate me.
Uncle Aaron is not a good person. I hopefully have proof of that right now, on the flash drive that’s concealed in my skirt pocket. But I still don’t understand why he goes out of his way to harm me. I still don’t understand what’s so horrible about me that he just can’t bring himself to love me.
Once again, the silence stretches out until I realize I’m supposed to respond.
That must be part of the pleasure for Uncle Aaron in these exercises in humiliation—watching me receive the verbal injury, watching me try my best to pretend it doesn’t hurt.
These types of interactions have happened so many times, they’re what have formed the core of our relationship.
But this time? This time I won’t give him the satisfaction.
I’m not sure if Uncle Aaron can see me any better than I can see him in this darkened room. Nevertheless, I raise my chin and do my best to keep my expression as calm and unfazed as possible. “Then why bother saying it?” I challenge him.
Before he can answer, I turn and leave the room. I don’t want to give him a chance to land another blow. I don’t know if I’ll be able to withstand it. My hands are shaking, my heart thundering in my ears, as I flee to the safety of my room.
Once I’m there, I turn the flash drive over in my hands. I don’t know what exactly it is that I’ve downloaded. Maybe it’s nothing. Or maybe what I have here might be enough to bring Uncle Aaron to justice, to bring resolution to all the people he’s hurt and cheated and even destroyed along the way.
Maybe what I have here might be enough to end Wes’s time undercover, so we can stop tricking Harmony, and he and I can finally be together.
Maybe what I have here might be enough to destroy my family.
I truly don’t know what the best outcome would be. I don’t know what to hope for as I take out my phone and type Morrie a quick message. I think I might have found something . . .
I don’t add what I’d like to, because Morrie’s already informed me that he doesn’t understand or appreciate my GIFs. But if I were going to include one, I know exactly which one it would be.
*Nervous Sheldon Cooper blowing into a paper bag*