Second Sight by Maria Rachel Hooley Read Free Book Online

new.”
    “ Thanks.” I scan the ground
to find the shell, luckily still intact. My trembling fingers pick
it up.
    Together we walk to the house, and while I
might open up to him in time, us being thrown together like this is
so uncomfortable I can hardly stand it. In one hand I carry the
conch, and in the other is shoved deeply into my shorts pocket,
probably to hide the fact I’m trembling—which has nothing to do
with Griffin’s sudden appearance and everything to do with this new
dream, one I really didn’t want to leave.
    I tug open the screen door and gesture for
Griffin to follow, plunking down on the couch. The silence is
festering, but I’m not sure what to do. Nowadays, I feel I have to
guard everything that comes out of my mouth. Setting the conch on
the coffee table, I venture to break the silence.
    “ Not much going on these
days.”
    Griffin sinks down next to me. He folds his
arms across his chest, waiting.
    “ What?” I ask.
    “ You used to trust me,
Lizzie.”
    I stand and start pacing. “Let’s just say I
don’t think you’re acting of your own accord these days, and the
last thing I need is you and Jimmie breathing down my neck.” All
the frustration and resentment I’ve been holding back since Lev’s
death—all the stuff I’ve thought but never said—is in danger of
boiling over. I can’t seem to control myself; too much is too much.
Maybe it’s just part of the brokenness and maybe not. Maybe it’s
just me, a part of whom I’ve become. Of anger and brokenness, anger
is much easier. Brokenness begs to be fixed. Anger is what it
is.
    Griffin stands and sets his palm on my
shoulder. “I’m not on a secret ‘Jimmie’ mission. All he asked me to
do was come up and spend some time with you—to make sure you’re
adjusting.”
    “ Adjusting. Right. Yeah. In
Jimmie speak, that’s code for blowing it off. Game over. Next
player. But this isn’t Joust, Griffin—There’s nothing to talk
about.”
    “ Oh, really? So you just
drove to Tennessee and got right in the middle of a gang shooting,
and that’s it? End of story?” He shakes his head. “I don’t buy
that, either.”
    Clenching my jaw I turn to
him. “I don’t much care what you buy, Griffin, because I’m not selling. No
market, no product, no deal. Got it? Unless, of course, you’re the
one doing the selling. Is that it? So, let’s hear it. Get it over
with.” I tap my foot impatiently.
    The color drains from his face, and I see a
shift in his expression. The frustrated façade gives way to
sadness. “I think it has something to do with Lev, whether you’re
willing to admit it, or not.”
    “ And this is a new theory,
right? Did this one take you long?”
    He winces. “Lizzie—”
    “ Maybe this does have to
with Lev. Maybe it doesn’t. But do you really think I’m going to
‘open up’ if all you’re planning on doing to running is Jimmie when
you figure it out?”
    I’m pacing again, feeling all the more like a
caged animal—one of those cute little strays they use in lab
experiments—poke here, prod there, gauge the reaction.
    Griffin throws up his hands in
exasperation.
    “ What makes you think I’m
going to tell Jimmie anything?” He follows close on my heels, and I
curse his long legs.
    “ That’s why you’re
here.”
    “ You haven’t listened to a
word I’ve said, have you?” He grabs my shoulder and forces me to
turn around. “Just talk to me. I promise I’ll keep it between
us.”
    All right. I’ll bite. For now.
    “ No matter what I say?
You promise ?” I
level a demanding gaze at him, still unsure what I will or won’t
tell him. Griffin is trying to be patient—I’ll give him that
much—but if I tell him Lev was an angel who carried souls from this
world to the next, and I’m trying to find him again, it might push
him over the edge. Or worse yet, get me committed. But then people
are like that. It’s how they’re wired. Anyone will believe a lie.
The truth is another