The Truth About Us

by Tia Souders

  Kuni watches on, fear in his eyes. His gaze darts to me, and I note something in them, something wild and fierce, and I shake my head no at him as the officer approaches his father, screaming at the old man to run. When he barely moves, The Butcher punches him in the side of the face. His body curls in on itself until he kicks him bloody before pulling out a pistol and shooting him in the head.

  Kuni, red-faced and hands fisting into balls of fury, runs full bore. Like a freight train, he crashes into The Butcher. Until the day I die, I will remember and appreciate the look of shock on his face as the boy lunged at him. This one startled expression gives me hope.

  Taken off-guard, The Butcher struggles for his pistol but not before Kuni somehow manages to grab a dagger off the officer’s belt. In one swift motion, so fast no one can react, much less The Butcher, he raises his hand, blade poised above him, and brings it down onto the officer, missing his head but catching his neck just as the officer raises his pistol and fires, sending a bullet into the boy’s skull. Kuni slumps to the ground in death, his blade missing The Butcher’s throat by inches.

  Numb to violence, the commotion didn’t horrify me. If anything, it impressed me that Kuni had somehow remained victorious, even in death. Because he had left his mark. The Butcher of Auschwitz deserved a scar as monstrous as his soul.

  The guard spit on the boy’s corpse with his hand over his own throat while blood pumped through his fingers.

  I did not scream or cry or even blink. Such things got you noticed, beat, or shot. Instead, I thought of the rumblings through the Sonderkommando. The ones that had started these past months. Talk of an uprising, and I thought, maybe... Maybe there was hope yet. Maybe I could escape.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Night fell around her. Mosquitos drifted in the balmy air, out in full force. Abby swatted one on her forearm, as she glanced at the darkening sky, devoid of the light of the moon with the thickening of clouds.

  It felt like rain, an explanation for the absence of the near-constant sound of crickets and chirpers at dusk. She only hoped the weather held until they made it to her car.

  She watched from behind the large oak in Kaden’s backyard as he slid his long legs out his bedroom window first, followed by the rest of his body, and landed to the ground with more ease than Abby could’ve managed. Wiping his hands on the seat of his pants, he closed the window, then turned.

  His gaze skimmed the yard around him and to the back of the house before he closed the distance between himself and Abigail.

  “Are you sure you wanna do this?” she whispered.

  He nodded, the tight set of his mouth and determined gleam in his eye confirming his answer. “Yeah. We’ve been waiting all week. Let’s go before my dad catches me. If he does, I’m so dead.”

  Without another word, they took off, jogging through the adjoining neighbors’ backyards until they reached the end of his street where she left her car. After lunch the other day, they had hatched a plan. Among the information in Lawson’s file was his address and next of kin. Apparently, he had a daughter that had lived with him. They agreed Friday they’d pay her a visit. If anyone had information that could help them, Abby was willing to bet it was her.

  Abby paused, catching her breath. “I don’t want to get you in trouble or anything.”

  “There’s no way I’m not coming. If that means I have to sneak out, then so be it. My dad had a rough day. Went to a DOA with two teenagers, so the chance he’d let me out tonight is slim. Stuff like that freaks him out, and it makes him overprotective. It’s just easier this way.”

  “DOA?” Abigail asked as they continued toward her car.

  “Dead on arrival. He’s so afraid of something happening to us too, ya know? I mean, the last time Sophie had a temp of ninety-nine, he took her to the emergency room. She gets stung by a bee, and he calls her doctor, like he’s convinced she’s allergic and going to have a deadly reaction before having any reason to suspect she is. He’s convinced the second one of us gets sick or he lets us out of his sight, something bad is gonna happen.”

  Abby paused. “Wouldn’t that be a terrible way to live? Being afraid all the time of losing someone?”

  The soft sound of Kaden’s breath matched her own as he moved beside her. He shoved his hands in his pockets, the evening breeze ruffling his hair as he spoke. “Yeah, but his job reinforces his fear. I think it’s hard to have your wife slowly die in front of you and then witness all the nastiness of the world firsthand and not fear the worst. It’s like he thinks if he can keep us in a bubble, we’ll be fine.”

  The sadness in Kaden’s voice tugged at her heart. Worse, his dad’s sheltering him, no matter how misguided, was starting to make sense.

  She bumped his shoulder with hers. “If today was a bad day—"

  “What night would be better? At least we waited until a Friday night. Tomorrow, he’ll work on a teen drug overdose, the next will be a missing child, and the next day, Sophie will get sick, or he’ll handle a shooting, another crash... There’s never a good time.”

  He opened the passenger door as he spoke, locking eyes with her from across the hood of the car. “There will always be something to be afraid of. And I think most parents feel like that, but he’s just unhinged about it. It needs to change, and I probably made it worse all these years by just going along with it, never pushing or questioning, always doing what he wanted.”

  Abby stared at him, mesmerized. She’d never met someone so open and unafraid to speak the truth about how he felt—so unlike herself, who bottled everything up tight until she could pretend her feelings didn’t even exist. But the more time she spent with Kaden, the more he made her want to open up. To tell him things she never told anyone before, and she realized with a sudden urgency that she wanted to know everything about him, all the things that made him tick. All his fears. All his secrets.

  “What?” He reached out, stretching his arm over the hood of the car, reaching for her hand but unable to close the distance. “What are you thinking?”

  She rounded the car, moving closer to him, then took his hand, allowing the warmth of his touch to soak through her bones.

  “I’m scared,” she whispered, breathless.

  “Of what?” He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand.

  Of how I feel when I’m with you.

  The words balanced on the tip of her tongue, but when she opened her mouth to speak, she hesitated.

  “Of this secret.”

  Disappointed in herself, she pulled her hands away. Though it was true, she had so much more she wanted to say.

  Clearing her throat, she straightened and glanced back over at him. “I’m scared of what all of this means. If I’m right, and Lawson and my grandmother’s secret are linked, then he might have died discovering the truth. And that’s...well, I’m not sure I even want to think about what that means.”

  “We don’t know that for certain though. Yes, whatever is in Newberry has to do with your grandmother, but it doesn’t mean that’s why he died. McBride could’ve easily tailed him and followed him there like the police thought.”

  “True.”

  Turning, Abby let go of his hand and momentarily closed her eyes. Why couldn’t she tell him how she felt about him? Why was she such a coward?

  It was too soon, she told herself. She couldn’t possibly feel any way about him yet.

  Her heart screamed at her as she rounded the car and opened the driver’s side door, then got inside. Kaden followed. They buckled their seats in the silence. Glancing over at him, she put her keys in the ignition and started the car.

  “You ready for whatever we find?” Kaden asked.

  With a deep breath, Abby pulled oxygen into her lungs and held it a moment while they burned. “I don’t know. But I guess we’re about to find out.”

  A shadow moved in the back seat. Kaden whirled around, and Abby gasped.

  A body sprung from the seat behind her, eyes blinking at her in the dark, while A
bby’s scream lodged in her throat.

  A HAND CLASPED AROUND Abby’s mouth, stifling the blood-curdling scream bursting from her chest.

  “Would you shut up?” the person hissed.

  Abby blinked. Wait. She knew that voice.

  Turning, she noticed Kaden chuckling beside her as the carjacker in the back seat leaned forward, their face coming into the light of the streetlamp.

  “Cammie? What the heck! You scared the crap out of me. What are you doing here?”

  Her raven waves curled around her face beneath her black hoodie. Further accenting her dark features, she wore black lipstick and dark eyeshadow. Even her nails were painted charcoal.

  “What’s with the black?” Abby scowled, looking none too pleased.

  “I’m incognito. Duh. And you should really lock your doors. You never know who might break into your car.”

  “This so isn’t funny.”

  Kaden laughed next to her, and Abby threw him a glare.

  “At least someone has a sense of humor,” Cammie muttered. “Anyway, I refuse to feel guilty because, hello? It’s Friday, and you have yet to tell me what you two are hiding like you promised. And seeing as how I just heard everything you said, don’t even try denying you aren’t hiding something because I just heard it. So, what exactly is it we’re on our way to find out? And why is Kaden sneaking out of his house when it’s only a little after eight?”

  Abby sighed. She hadn’t yet decided how much to tell Cammie or what lie she might give. And she was so not good at improv under pressure. “Um...”

  What could she tell her other than the truth? There was no getting rid of her now, and Abby wasn’t about to postpone going to Lawson’s on account of her, which meant she’d be there when they talked to his daughter. Deciding on a partial truth, with minimal explanation, she said, “Okay, you know that journal you saw me with the other day?”

  “Yeah. The one with the super depressing passage?”

  “That’s the one. Well, like I said, I found it in my grandmother’s things. Turns out, she hired a private investigator to track down the journal’s owner. But he’s dead now. As a way of remembering her, I thought I’d follow through and finish what she never got the chance to do. Tonight, we’re going to talk to the detective’s daughter and see if she might have my grandma’s old files or know what her father might’ve found. That’s it. See, it’s really no biggie.” Abby rolled her eyes like the whole thing was inconsequential.

  Cammie narrowed her eyes. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

  “I’m not that good of a lair. Besides, it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  Heck, it made more sense than what they were actually trying to find out. Or it was less complicated at least.

  “Fine. But I’m going with you. Then, I’ll know if you’re lying.” Cammie sunk back into the seat.

  “Like I thought we were getting rid of you,” Abby muttered.

  “I’ll also have you know there’s an awesome party at Craig Martin’s house I’m missing for this. If you two would be normal, we could skip this whole journal thing and go there instead.”

  “I’m not into high school parties,” Kaden said.

  “Yeah. Me neither.” Abby flashed him a private smile.

  “Ugh. I guess this means I’m going to have to watch you two make eyes at each other all night, too.”

  Abby’s jaw dropped, but Cammie waved her away. “Oh, don’t try and deny it. Just drive.”

  Cheeks on fire, Abby pulled away from the curb to the sound of Kaden’s muted laughter. This was going to be a long night.

  LEANNE MCCALLISTER had the cat lady thing down. A calico brushed past Abby’s legs before disappearing into the hallway, only to be replaced by a white and orange tabby.

  Kaden turned to her as Leanne motioned them to follow, his eyes wide as he took in their surroundings. With a meaningful look, Abby tipped her head toward the living room Leanne entered with one cat on her heels and two Persians perched on the back of the couch. She mouthed, Come on.

  He widened his eyes and shook his head.

  Brushing past them, Cammie sauntered into the room without a care in the world. “Nice place,” she said, plopping down on an armchair in front of a large bay window.

  Abby bit her knuckles, stifling a laugh. Leave it to Cammie to make herself at home.

  Shrugging, she motioned for Kaden to follow and entered the room behind Leanne, praying there might be a chair devoid of cat.

  Not a chance.

  She took a seat on the sofa with Kaden next to her—perched so only an inch of his butt rested on the edge of the couch, peering around at the cat behind him which hissed and swiped a paw at the back of his head.

  Abby chuckled while Leanne waved the cat away. “Oh, don’t worry about him. He doesn’t like visitors much,” she said, then bent down to pick up a black cat with shining green eyes. “We don’t get too many since Dad died.”

  Beside her, Kaden coughed, pounding his chest with his fist.

  “Oh, dear. You all right?” Leanne asked.

  He nodded, wincing as he wheezed, then leaned into Abby. “Pet dander.”

  Abby rolled her eyes. With a cleansing breath, she focused on the task at hand rather than the boy beside her.

  “So, y’all wanna tell her why we’re here?” Cammie asked, staring at them.

  Kaden nudged her in the side, prodding her to talk, but she forgot everything they had rehearsed in the car. Searching for something to say, she mumbled, “Um... So, you like cats?”

  The couch shook beside her, and she could make out Kaden in her peripheral, trembling with suppressed laughter. As if to punctuate her statement, a gray cat with thick fur and copper-colored eyes stalked across the living room.

  “Hey, isn’t that a British Shorthair?” Cammie piped in, pointing at the cat.

  “Why, yes. It is.” Leanne beamed. “I got her a couple years ago.”

  “They’re beautiful. My mom used to have one. It was always my favorite. Now we just have our orange tabby.”

  Abby could practically see Leanne relax, and she said a silent prayer of thanks for Cammie’s presence.

  “Is the tabby a boy or girl?”

  “A girl.” Cammie smiled.

  “Ah, so she’s rare. The orange ones are almost always boys.”

  “How many do you have?”

  “I have sixteen now.”

  Kaden turned ashen as he glanced to Abby in horror, but Cammie listened with rapt interest.

  “I know. They’re a lot, but after my dad died, I just...they helped me. We had already had two, and then I rescued two more from an alley in the city. Animals are very therapeutic. And once you get one, well, it’s hard to stop. I like to think of myself as a rescue home. I give them shelter and food, and they keep me company in return.”

  “That’s lovely,” Cammie said. “Actually, that’s sort of why we’re here. Not the cats, but my friend here can relate.” She motioned to Abby. “She just lost someone she loved, too. And now she’s trying to finish something she started while she was alive. Isn’t that right?”

  Cammie raised her brows at Abby, prodding her to say something, but Abby’s thoughts had halted on Leanne and the cats.

  If all Abby had were her parents, is this what would happen to her if she lost one of them? Turn into a cat lady? She shuddered at the thought.

  “Abby?” Kaden nudged her.

  She snapped from her thoughts. “Oh! Sorry. Right.” Abby nodded her head.

  With love shining in her eyes, Leanne stroked the cat’s fur, and Abby felt an instant stab of sympathy for the woman.

  “Cammie’s right. I know how hard it is to lose someone you love. Actually, we both do.” She gestured between her and Kaden.

  Leaning forward, Kaden clasped his hands between his long legs. “Yep. That’s why we’re here,” he said, finally joining the conversation.

  “My grandmother had hired your father to research something for her years
ago. It had to do with a journal she found and our family tree. I know that sounds a little strange, that she’d hire a private investigator for that kind of work, but it’s complicated. She really hoped to find living relatives of my grandfather’s. She’s since passed on, but I wanted to finish this for her since she never got the chance. I was hoping your dad may have had some of his old case files, notes, research, anything that might be of help on where to look for family. Before my grandmother died, she had mentioned him finding something of importance.” Abby shook her head, glancing at the clasped hands in her lap. “But I didn’t get the details, and now...” She cut herself off, letting her words linger in the air. She tried to force tears to her eyes, but she had so little practice displaying her emotions, it was like trying to milk a bull.

  Leanne nodded. “I understand why you’d want to do that. Our family was small, and Dad kept to himself after my mother ran off years ago. It was the two of us, and he focused so much on work.” Leanne swallowed, her voice thick with tears.

  Abby waited, hoping for an offer, but Leanne remained silent.

  “Do you think there’s anything that can help us?” Kaden asked.

  “Oh,” Blinking, she snapped from wherever her thoughts had taken her and stood. “Do you know how my father died?”

  Abby offered a tentative nod.

  “After the detectives closed his case, they gave me back his things, minus anything they needed for his report and case file, of course. They’re messy, but his files are all there. You’re free to have a look,” she said.

  Excitement spiked her veins. “That would be fantastic. Thank you.”

  She turned to Kaden, trying to get his approval but found he was engaged in a staring contest with a Persian.

  “Right, Kaden?” she asked, elbowing him in the ribs.

  “Oh, right,” he muttered as he jerked his head away from the cat, which hissed at him.