10. Home Again

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Monday couldn't come soon enough. It always seemed better somehow when Caiti was here, easier to keep my mind off of things. It was strange really, the way she and I had become such fast friends. Of course I was grateful to her, that she had been here to take care of dad—above and beyond what was required of her—but it felt like so much more. Maybe it was because there was finally someone here that saw the real me—well, that saw the real me and cared enough to be cautious with my emotions. Or maybe it was just that since losing Levi, she was all I had. However, the latter sounded selfish and rude and I preferred not to think it was true.

When she'd come in this morning it had appeared that she'd had a rough weekend, rougher than usual. It wasn't that she said anything, or that I could see any more marks on her. I didn't have to, because it wasn't the way she avoided using her left arm—or the way she checked me to see if I noticed—that told me. No, I could just tell. More than anything I wanted to say something to comfort her, to offer any kind of solace without offending her or making her feel embarrassed. Still, things couldn't keep going on the way they were, and I made a conscious decision that I would talk to her about it.

Only, she had made the decision to beat me to it.

"I wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute." She caught me in the hall, just as I was coming in. The way her fingers clung to my skin warned me that even though she asked, there was really only one answer she would accept. Naturally I would never have assumed that she would be the one to bring it up, so I looked at her quizzically as I processed my response.

"Always," I looked passed her down the hall where dad's room was, knowing that she had already laid him down for his nap. The timing seemed intentional to me, and I gently pulled away and started towards the living room. "Let's talk in here."

"It's nothing terrible, I just wanted to clear the air." Caiti coughed lightly and moved by me, going in and sitting on the couch. At first she kept her eyes to the floor, only bringing them up after a long minute had passed. That was familiar to me, as an actor, to see the way she needed to compose herself. It was all I required to be sure that she was about to lie right to my face.

"Okay, you can tell me anything." I mirrored the words she had told me when she knew my truth, hoping that it would convince her to employ the same honesty with me. As I spoke, I sat down on the table in front of the sofa, so that I could still see her eyes, to make it harder for her to weave a fabrication.

"It's nothing like that, it's just that I think you might be a little confused about something you saw." She squinted and tilted her head to the side as she spoke, giving away her tells. I did have to commend her though—despite making it clear she wasn't telling the truth, she did deliver the lines with vocal honesty.

"And what did I see? What am I confused about?" Smiling, I also cocked my head, waiting to hear what reasoning she might come up with. She clasped her hands in her lap, staring down at them as she wrung them in thought. It took her longer than she would've liked to think of what she wanted to say, and when she faced me again she could tell that I already saw through her.

"You tell me." With a grin of her own she returned my gesture, "I've heard some things." It was obvious that she was baiting me, wanting me to come outright with it so she could dispute it. I wasn't sure if it was because it was too hard for her to say on her own, or if she just thought she would have a better chance of convincing me like that. Either way I could see that it was not a comfortable thing for her to be talking about in any capacity, and I decided to dig a little more before obliging.

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