Before Carol can respond, I duck into the hallway. The suite has three bedrooms, each with their own bathroom. I can never poke around because Carol is always there but I’ve observed her entering and exiting my father’s private area before. That's how I know she needs an access card. Paranoid bastard. How many people have this level of security on their bedroom? But his security just increases my belief that he's hiding something. Innocent people are rarely this careful. Hopefully Zack can keep them distracted for a few minutes so I can get into my father’s room.

I glance behind me but the hall is empty so I hold the card up to the door on the last room. The electronic keypad flashes green and I enter. The curtains are drawn slightly but it doesn’t matter. The only thing I want to do is check out what’s next to my father’s bed.

We spent the last few weeks planning this and the one thing that Zack and I agreed on was that whatever Max is up to, it’s personal. He’s spent a lot of time and money ensuring that his children have to talk to him. But what we can’t figure out is why now? Since his stroke, my father hasn’t been able to get around as easily so we theorized that he’d keep his most important possessions near his bed. Where he can reach them.

I pull out my cell phone and start snapping pictures of everything around me. A spill won’t distract Carol for long. After snapping everything near the bed and everything visible when I pull open the nightstand drawer, I leave the room.

A few seconds later, Carol enters the hallway from the living area. Her eyes narrow when she sees me standing in the hall.

“Did you get a towel?”

I run a hand through my hair and feign confusion. “Uh no, actually. I was looking for a linen closet and then realized that this isn’t actually an apartment. It’s easy to forget this is a hotel suite.”

Her pinched look dissolves into a smile. “Yeah, it is. But you can just take one from any of the bathrooms. It’s fine.”

I duck into the guest room I’m standing next to and walk past the perfectly made up bed to the bathroom. It’s fully stocked and ready for guests, so I grab two towels from the stack above the toilet.

When I come back out, I hand one to Carol. “Sorry about that again. My brother can be a little clumsy.”

“Oh it’s fine. He was so apologetic about it that I actually feel bad. He got more of it on himself than me. He said one of his tattoos wasn’t fully healed and it was burning him. I had to help him get it off. Poor guy.”

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My mouth twitches. Zack is not a fan of being touched by people he doesn’t know so if he had to let her play nursemaid, I’m sure I’m going to get an earful about it later.

When we enter the living room, Max looks over from his seat by the window. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, found ‘em.” I hold up the towels. His eyes follow me as I walk over to the table and make a big production about cleaning it up. I nod at Zack, letting him know that I got what I needed. He stands and walks over to Max, positioning his body between us. I pull the keycard from my pocket and tuck it under the towel.

"You don't have to do that. I can clean it up." Carol appears at my side with the other towel.

"I don't mind." I bend back to the liquid dripping onto the carpet before she can protest again.

Carol wipes the tray she brought the drinks on. As I’m mopping up the puddle on the carpet, I casually toss the keycard over to the side of the table where she's standing. When she wipes the side of the table, she stops when she spots it.

Her hand immediately flies to her waistband. “Oh I must have dropped it.” Her soft mumble is barely audible over Zack’s loud voice. I glance over my shoulder.

“Are you telling him about that weird tattoo artist?”

Zack looks over his shoulder at our prearranged signal. He moves out of the way so Max is visible. I stand with the soiled towel in my hands, the table behind me arranged the way it was when we arrived. Carol stands too, holding the tray with the empty glasses.

“I’ll be back with more drinks.”

Max watches as Carol leaves the room. Then his eyes swing back to me. For a long moment, we don’t break eye contact. Of all of his children, I am probably the most like Max. We’re both liars and manipulators, and extremely good at it. The only difference is that I made a conscious decision to stop. To try to be something better.

But as he watches me, there’s something in his eyes I wasn’t expecting. Like he knows there was more to all that chaos than meets the eye but he isn’t going to call me on it. Like he’s aware that I’m playing him but doesn’t even care to stop it.

Something that looks a lot like regret.

“Your brother was just showing off his latest artwork. Sit down, Gabriel. And tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Chapter three

SASHA

"Is it ready yet?"

I look over at my sister Audra in confusion. "What?"

She points at the pan in front of me. "The cornbread. You took it out of the oven and you've just been standing here staring into space ever since."

"Sorry. I was just thinking."

I know I've been spaced out today but it's just because I've been so busy.

After spending weeks holed up in my house and avoiding the world, I'd realized that there were so many other dreams to pursue. Before I'd gone on the show I'd made inquiries about a space for rent in downtown New Haven. It has always been a dream of mine to open a small jazz lounge and my entire family promised to invest. 




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