Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Adalynn
“What about your mother?” he inquires. “Why do you think she became a victim?”
“I think Dad shared everything with her,” I confess. “She worked at a bank, so numbers were a language they both understood.”
“That makes sense,” he murmurs. “If I had a wife and stumbled onto something like that, I’d probably share it with her, too.”
Focusing on the rough texture of the porch railing, I say, “They never allowed their work to bleed into our lives.
Whenever they needed to hash things out, they would shut themselves away in their bedroom, whispering for hours.
I used to think they were merely being polite, keeping their professional stress away from us kids.
But looking back, I now realize Mom wasn't just sitting there listening to him vent.
She was right there in the thick of it, digging through those columns and matching numbers against names.
She didn't just support him, she was the one helping him connect the dots. She was just as deep in the thick of things as he was.” I glance at him, needing him to understand the weight of that realization.
“That’s why she wasn't a bystander they accidentally caught in the crossfire. They killed her because she was clever enough to figure it out, just like Dad. She was a liability they needed to erase.”
“Why do you think it’s necessary to keep these things from Carter, Adalynn? He’s going to shit a brick when he finds out you’ve kept that from him.”
“Since he’s only fourteen,” I whisper, barely making a sound, “destroying his memories by showing him they were built on a lie will completely gut him. He’s already under immense pressure, forcing himself to act as the man of the house.
I can’t bear the responsibility of revealing that she was just as involved as Dad was in their deaths. ”
Dodge shifts, the swing groaning under his weight.
“He’s smarter than you think. You’re trying to keep him a boy, but this life hasn't left him that luxury. He’s holding that gun, Adalynn.
He’s already crossed that line. Keeping the truth from him won’t make him safe.
It’ll just make him resent you when he figures it out for himself. ”
I slide down onto the stoop, pulling my knees tight against my chest to keep from flying apart.
My breathing hitches, and I stare into the dark, turning his words over in my mind.
“I just want him to have a little more time before the world eats him whole. I want to keep him in that space where he believes Mom and Dad were just victims of bad luck, not architects of their own destruction.”
Dodge stops rocking. The quiet on the patio is suddenly loud.
He leans forward, the light from the living room catching the lines on his face.
“You're not saving him,” he says, his voice losing its roughness, turning into something almost kind.
“You're just delaying the inevitable. When he finds out you knew and didn't tell him, he won't see a sister protecting a kid. He'll see a partner in the deception.”
That cuts deep. I look up, my eyes burning. “And if I tell him? What happens then? He loses his last bit of faith in them. He'll feel like he’s grieving strangers. I can't be the one to destroy the last good thing he has left.”
“You’re looking at this the wrong way, Adalynn,” he rebuffs. “You’re worried about tarnishing their reputation, but if you spin it the way it should be, he’ll realize they were the good guys trying to right a wrong.”
I flip his perspective over in my head until it feels rudimental.
I’ve spent every day since the funeral viewing my folks as victims of a chaotic, random world, and rewriting that story feels like a betrayal of who I thought they were.
It shifts Mom from a savvy banker into a woman who understood the high-stakes game she was playing.
Knowing the odds, Dad transforms from a man caught up in a catastrophe into a calculated fighter.
The version of them I’ve carried since I was a girl is disintegrating right before my eyes.
I used to believe they were just unlucky souls who stumbled upon the wrong data.
Now, I see two people who looked straight into the eyes of a cold-blooded killer and decided to face it head-on.
It makes them seem courageous, sure, but it also makes them appear terrifyingly reckless.
That’s a volatile legacy to leave for us.
I look at Dodge, seeing the steady, unrelenting gaze of a man who’s never had the luxury of a gentle worldview.
“It changes everything,” I whisper. “If I tell him, he won't just be grieving. He'll be realizing that his entire childhood was built on a foundation of danger. You’re asking me to hand him a weapon that might blow up in his hands.”
Dodge doesn't look away. He stays locked onto me, his expression softening just enough to show he isn't trying to be cruel. “Sometimes the truth is the only tool that works. You’re keeping him in the dark to protect him, but he’s already walking around with his eyes open. He’s just waiting for you to tell him what he’s looking at. ”
I press my heels into the porch floor. The air between us is thick, but for the first time, it doesn't feel like I'm gasping for breath. The idea settles in—that maybe Carter isn't a kid who needs to be hidden from the truth, but a young man who needs to know exactly who he comes from.
The screen door lets out a soft whine as it swings open.
I spin around, heart hammering against my ribs, expecting an enemy.
Instead, I find Carter standing in the doorway.
He’s backlit by the living room lamp, his face cast in shadow, but his stance is unmistakable.
He’s been listening all along. He walks out onto the patio, his movements slow and deliberate.
He doesn't look like the scared teenager who walked into this house a few hours ago. He looks like he’s aged ten years in the span of one conversation.
He stops a few feet away, leaning his back against the railing, his voice entirely steady and devoid of the tremor I’ve come to expect.
“I'm not mad at you for keeping it to yourself, Adalynn,” he claims. “I wasn't born yesterday.
I knew there was a missing piece in the story you were feeding me.
But Dodge is right. Knowing they weren't just random bystanders doesn't make me pissed, it makes them real.
They didn't just get wiped out cause they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They made a play against the dirt they dug up. To me? That makes them heroes.”
Tears stream hot and fast down my face at his admission. I murmur his name, my voice cracking under the emotional strain. “Carter. I should’ve known better than to keep this from you. But like Dodge said, I didn’t want to tarnish them in your eyes.”
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, but the tears won't stop coming.
I look up at my little brother, who suddenly seems so much bigger than the world around him.
He reaches out, grabbing my shoulder. His fingers are calloused and firm, the grip of someone who has accepted his new reality without flinching.
“Stop saying you’re sorry,” Carter insists.
“You did what you thought was right. But don't keep treating me like I'm a toddler. I understand what they did and the risks they took. If they were willing to face death for what they believed in, I have the strength to hear the whole truth.” Dodge watches us from the swing, his face an unreadable mask in the moonlight, but he doesn't interfere.
“This ain't just the baggage they left us, Adalynn,” Carter adds, his gaze drifting to Dodge. “It’s a warning. And now we know what we’re up against.”
“We don’t,” I argue. “We don’t know who they are or how to convince them that we don’t know enough for them to keep coming after us.”
“Yeah, and that’s the messed up part,” Carter chimes in, shoving his hands deep into his pockets because he does not know what else to do with them.
He looks from me to Dodge. “We’re just flying blind.
I got zero clue who’s pulling the strings or what they’ve got planned next.
For all we know, they could be watching us right this second.
” He kicks at a loose floorboard. It makes a dull thud.
“See, that’s why I don’t get to sit around.
If we stay put here, we’re just waiting for them to kick down the door like they did back home.
We gotta figure out how to stop them, or at least how to get them off our backs for good.
We can’t just cross our fingers and hope they lose interest. That ain’t how the real world works, right, Dodge?
” He looks over at him for confirmation.
“You say you know the game. So tell us. How do we make them think we don’t have what they’re looking for?
Or do we gotta take them out before they get to us? I’m tired of running like a stray dog.”
Dodge stops the swing with the toe of his boot.
He looks at Carter, studying him like a mechanic checking a faulty engine.
It’s a steady, calm look. He doesn’t seem threatened by my brother’s attitude.
“You’ve got a lot of fire in your gut, Carter,” Dodge says, his voice a low rumble.
“That’s good. But rushing into a fight before you know who you’re swinging at is a great way to get yourself killed.
We aren’t just sitting around. We’re gathering intel.
I’ve got people who can dig, but they need time to work the wires.
You want to stay alive? Then you need to learn patience.
It’s a skill you’ll need if you want to keep breathing. ”
Carter scoffs, kicking the porch floor again. “Patience? Seriously? Man, that sounds like a bunch of crap when we’re counting down the seconds till they show up. My sister’s been preaching patience for weeks, and look where that got us.”
I wince, but I don’t argue. He’s right. Every day we spent trying to blend in, trying to be normal, we were just marking time for the people who want us gone.
Dodge leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
He doesn’t look offended by the kid’s outburst. “You’re tired of being prey,” he says, his eyes pinning Carter in place.
“I get it. But playing the hero on a hunch is for the movies. We play this smart, or we don’t play at all.
Do you trust me enough to follow my lead, or are you gonna keep trying to make your own rules? ”
The air is thick with tension. Carter looks at me, then back at Dodge. He wants to argue, but he knows Dodge is the only one who has a plan that doesn’t involve running until the car quits.
Carter shifts his weight, his sneakers scraping against the rough wood of the patio. He’s working overtime to act like he’s got the whole world figured out, but I can see the pulse jumping in his neck. He hates the idea of waiting for someone else to make the first move.
“Man, whatever," Carter grunts, crossing his arms so tight his knuckles turn pale. “I'll play by your book for now. But look, if those creeps show their ugly faces, I ain't waiting for a green light from anybody. I’m doing what I gotta do to keep us breathing.”
Dodge just gives a quick nod, like he expected nothing less from a kid pushed into a corner.
I swallow the lump in my throat. Watching them negotiate our survival feels like watching two gamblers betting with chips that aren't even theirs.
I don't know who’s scarier right now, the faceless hunters we're fleeing or the man standing in front of us promising to save us.
“Knock it off with the tough guy act, Carter,” I snap.
I reach out, trying to grab his arm, but he jerks back like I’m trying to cage him.
It kills me seeing him try to wear a mask he hasn't earned. He thinks copying the posture and the attitude he’s seen in movies is going to keep the bad guys away, but it's just making him a bigger target for his own mistakes.
He twists his face into a scowl that looks painful, like he’s forcing his muscles into a shape they don’t belong in.
He’s trying so hard to be the bad boy that it's just sad.
“Sis, whatever,” he spits out, his voice slipping up an octave for a split second before he forces it back down to a gravelly register.
“You want me to speak nice while we're sitting here waiting to get smoked?
This ain't some school play where you get points for being polite.
I'm just being real. If we're gonna make it, we gotta quit being soft and start moving like we actually care about staying alive.”
Dodge doesn't say a word. He just tips his head, watching the exchange with the calm of a guy who's seen a hundred kids try to prove they're grown up.
I watch the space between us grow. It feels like Carter is drifting away into a world I can't follow, and the thought of losing him to this hardened version of himself makes my stomach swirl.
“We took this risk because we wanted a shot at breathing,” I say, my voice steady despite the fear clawing at me. “Acting like you're some street legend when we're hiding out here is only gonna land you in the dirt. Get your head in the game. Don't be an idiot.”
When he goes to argue, Dodge holds his hand up, giving him a lethal stare. I can see demons in his eyes, ones that are ready to grab Carter by the ears and drag him off to the underworld.