Chapter Eleven

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         "Like I told you before, my grandmother is a force to be reckoned with. You can talk to her about almost anything you'd like, just be sure to not cross her."

I was in Tatum's blue Camry that didn't drive very smoothly and the radio only had one setting: loud. We were on the way to his family's house in the middle of Boston. We hadn't been dating very long, so it felt pretty weird knowing that I'd be meeting his family soon. I was interested in what happened to Vivienne Aldridge, and the opportunity to talk to one of the only people who may have a sliver of knowledge about it just showed right up in front of me. I had to go. It was practically a sign.

"I won't cross her," I called out over the loud, thumping rock music he played on his car radio. "I just need to talk to her about something."

"You still haven't told me what you need to talk to her about." He glanced over at me, his eyes wide, begging me to share.

I shot him a look that implied that I wasn't going to. "Because I can't talk about it."

"But you're going to talk about it with my grandmother." This boy was so nosy.

"Because your grandma knows something about it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is there something wrong?" His voice was concerned, worrisome, but still very calming: Good boyfriend stuff.

"No, Tatum. You said you'd trust me."

"And I do, but you're sort of worrying me, Kayleigh. If you aren't okay, then you can tell me." He fixed his gaze on me instead of the road. "You know that, right?"

"Of course."

"Good." He pulled into the driveway of a large, gorgeous mansion. I knew he had money, but this was a bit more than expected.

Tatum saw the shock on my face and said, "My father's a CEO. My mother's a doctor."

That explained it. "I can tell."
Both of us stepped out of the car and I slammed the door shut a little harder than I expected to. Tatum shot me a be careful look—which I rolled my eyes at, because his car wasn't exactly new—and I gave him an apologizing smile. We walked up the porch, hand in hand, and he rang the doorbell. It was one of those fancy doorbells that sounds like a church bell.

A middle-aged woman stepped out, an apron tied around her waist. She had a typical hourglass frame with larger hips and a tiny waist that tapered in. Her white hair was slicked back out of her face and pulled into a high ponytail.

She opened her arms and hugged Tatum tightly, mumbling, "Hello, honey." She kissed him on both cheeks and then hugged me.

I hugged her back, not quite as tightly as she was to me, and she let me go, stepping back to fully analyze me.

This morning, I had decided that I was going to dress to impress, because I knew that Tatum came from some money. I wore navy jeans and a white button-down with a carnation-pink sweater over it. I paired the ensemble with black kitten heels and my whitened smile.

"You must be Kayleigh," she said to me, extending a hand for me to shake as if she hadn't just mauled me with a bear-hug. "I'm Colleen Hammond, Tatum's mother. I've heard so many good things about you."
I glanced over at Tatum, who's face was painted a light pink. I loved it when he blushed. Unlike me, he didn't blush very often. It was a great sight to witness.

"Hello, Mrs. Hammond," I said politely, taking her hand. It was baby-soft and her nails were painted a deep red that matched the large ruby adorning her silver necklace. It had to be a real ruby.

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