The Truth About Kian

14. My missionaries in a foreign field

:: C H A P T E R F O U R T E E N | MY MISSIONARIES IN A FOREIGN FIELD ::

 I could've cut the awkwardness in the air with a chainsaw — if I was the sort of person who made a habit of trying to fit shop tools in my bag. For once Liam kept his eyes on the road, and I did my best to avoid looking at him, fidgeting with the zipper on my jacket and sliding up and down anxiously as we sped down main street. I braided loose strands of my hair behind my ear to keep myself from breaking the silence. I was pretty sure that climbing into a car with an angry Inheritor was a stupid idea, but I didn't really have an option when Liam had been waiting by my locker with the same blank, shuttered look he'd been wearing since lunch. I'd only had time to give Jules a helpless smile before Liam dragged me away.

It didn't take a genius to figure out why he'd only spoken two words to me for the last half of the day.

But I hadn't meant what I said to Meg. I did care, and I cared too much. There was something about Liam that made me forget about all of the horrible things that I'd experienced at the hands of the Inheritors.

"Where are we going?"

"Karen's house," he answered a few minutes later.

"Oh." My bag, sitting on my lap, suddenly felt a lot heavier. "Is she expecting us?"

"I called her last night. It'd be rude to cancel on her now."

I winced. "I don't want to force you to do something you don't want — I can go by myself."

The car whipped around a corner, and my head smacked against the window. "Yes," Liam said through gritted teeth. "I'm completely aware of how much you need me, but I'm not just going to sic you on Karen with a bunch of questions that are only going to upset her."

"Sinclair—"

"Is that why you won't call me by my first name? Because I'm just some thing that's going to help you get answers?"

"We've been through this before," I said impatiently as we pulled up in front of Mrs. Daniels' house. "I'm—"

He ripped open his door and hurled himself out of the car.

"Okay then," I muttered. "Go ahead and sulk or whatever you're doing. I don't care."

"That's the problem with you, Reed," he snapped, whirling around to face me on the walkway that led up to the front door. "You never care enough!"

"You don't know anything!" My hands curled into fists, my fingernails digging into the flesh. "I care, goddammit! Too much!"

My mouth swung shut with an audible click, and he froze.

"Reed—"

"Forget it," I muttered, shouldering past him before ringing the doorbell.

She answered almost immediately and I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from gasping. Mrs. Daniels still retained her graceful beauty, but her gaunt frame caused the shoulder seams of her flowered blouse to hang nearly to her elbows and her grey trousers were cinched so tightly around her waist that the fabric folded in spots around the belt. Her silver hair, pulled in a half-up style with a silver clip, pooled listlessly around her shoulders and despite small hints of eyeshadow and mascara, her big eyes looked sunken in her thin face.

"Hello," she greeted softly. "Please come in."

"Thanks for seeing us, Karen." Liam prodded me through the threshold, obnoxiously stepping on my heels as he closed the door. "I'm sorry to bother you again."

"You never bother me." She smiled, but the emptiness in her eyes didn't disappear. "I always enjoy your visits." Mrs. Daniels led us to the living room where a tray of tea, cookies and fruit was set up on the coffee table. The house was scrupulously clean, but it felt empty — like it hadn't really been inhabited since Kian's death. The pictures on the mantle were meticulously lined up in chronological order, their matching gold frames gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight. There was a trophy beside the last picture, and when I squinted, I could see the engraved plate that said, "Most Valuable Player."