29. The Real Truth

Lily knew something was going on, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.

It was the tone of Braylon's text. Longer than he normally wrote and wanting to have dinner with her. At her place.

That was a new one, but she was telling herself to not panic. Just because the article came out about West and Abby's engagement and there was a picture of her with the family meant nothing.

Thankfully, all the names weren't included in that family picture. She wasn't sure if it was to protect all the siblings or not. There were enough articles about West in the news over the years that someone could piece together who everyone was.

Everyone but her.

She supposed anyone looking at the picture though would see some kind of a resemblance in her coloring and the rest of the Carlisles and maybe think she was a sibling too. It's not like Braylon had his arm around her, just next to her.

She'd rushed home after work. She was going to cook something, but Braylon said he was picking up dinner on the way.

Instead, she fretted enough that she was picking up pillows and fluffing them for no reason until there was a knock at her door.

She all but ran to get it, opened it and saw Braylon there with a pizza box in his hand. He was still in his suit so he'd come from work even though she'd been home almost ninety minutes.

"Hi," she said. "That smells good."

"It was the easiest and fastest thing to grab."

There was no smile on his face, and he almost seemed tense.

"I'll start. Something is going on. You said it had to do with the article. Just tell me. You're not acting yourself."

"How is that?" he asked.

"Your text was longer than normal. Almost like you had to prepare it for the most impact without worrying me at the same time. But you failed because I've been worried all day."

"Not what I wanted," he said. "Get a piece and let's sit."

"No," she said. "Set it down and let's talk. The food can wait."

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Very well. Why don't you and your mother talk anymore?"

She frowned, not sure where this was coming from. "Because she's not a nice person. I told you I don't know who my father is. My mother didn't treat us well. She left us alone at times. I haven't talked to her in ten years."

"Ten years," he said. "You're twenty-four. I never put this together before. You've only lived with Quinn since you were eighteen. Where were you for those other four years?"

Her shoulders dropped. She never realized she gave just enough information. "Sounds to me like you know," she said. "What did you do? Look into me?"

That thought just occurred to her and made her ill. That he didn't trust her enough that he had to go behind her back.

"I did not," he said firmly. "But someone else did."

"Who?" she asked.

"I'm giving you a chance to give me your side of the story. I want to know why you never said it before."

Lilian started to sniffle. "Don't you think it's obvious? I'm embarrassed. I don't want to be that person. Or have that life." She was pacing around her small apartment.

"I don't know what that life is because you never talk about anything other than from the time you were with Quinn."

"Braylon," she said, throwing her hands up in the air. "Fine. I'll tell you. My mother was a whore and a criminal. She stole, she lied, she sold herself for money to get her next fix. She got knocked up more than four times but didn't want to keep having abortions so she had kids in hopes of getting the money from the county. We were all in and out of foster care our entire lives. Then we'd go back and be pulled again. Quinn ended up in a juvenile detention center for a period of time."

"Quinn comes off as the person least likely to be there," he said.

"That's right. She didn't belong there," she said. "You have no idea what our life was like and how easy it would have been to follow the same path. I'm sure you know Karl was in prison and just released."

"I do," he said.

"Then you know why and why my mother was there, but let me tell you so you have the real truth. Because what you read may be the facts, but it's not the life we saw with our eyes."

"Tell me," he said. She didn't see anger in his eyes anymore, but rather sympathy. She didn't want that either. She never did.

"Quinn stole. She had to feed us. She was thirteen and I was three. My brothers were in between, but she was caring for us from the moment I was born. I've never known any differently. My mother would be gone for days at a time and just leave enough on her food card to barely feed one of us. We were hungry. Quinn went to the store with what she had and it wasn't enough. She had to steal a little extra. Like five dollars worth to make us some pasta and sauce and bread. Simple. Assistance from the state didn't cover things like soap or toilet paper or tampons either. We had our pride, but she got caught stealing a small amount of food while we were home starving. She was arrested and it's not like there was money for an attorney. We were all pulled from my mother and put in a home at that point."

"Jesus," he said.

"Yeah. How would you like to be Quinn? She has that on her record. She had to confess that to Max because he was going to do a background check on her and she didn't know if it'd come up. To have that hanging over your head your whole life holding you back from anything. No kid should have that!" she shouted.

"No," he said, running his hands through his hair.

"You think you had it bad, but you had a mother than cared. That loved you. You had siblings willing to help out and make life easier for you, but we never had that. Karl, he needed attention so badly that he was swayed to follow in my mother's footsteps. That is his biggest downfall. He's turning his life around, but he's tried before. Quinn and Brett keep in contact, but not much. Brett, he met Annie in a group home."

"The same situation?" he asked.

"Similar enough. She got pregnant and they moved in together and they work their asses off to just make ends meet. Quinn is always sending them things and they don't want them. They want to make it on their own even if they can barely do it. I was the lucky one."

"It doesn't appear it from the reports I got," he said.

"Because you and everyone else just want to believe what you read and not hear it from the person who lived it," she said, slapping her hand to her chest. "Did it ever occur to you that I don't talk about it not just because it was embarrassing but because I don't want to remember? I don't want to go back to that time."

"No," he said. "I just wish you would have told me. I would have been prepared."

"Prepared for what?" she asked. "What happened? Someone found out about me and now they think I'm using you? Is that what this is about? And because you feel blindsided by the truth you feel I'm out to get your family money?"

"No!"

"Don't lie to me, Braylon."

"I'm not," he said. "I wanted to say you were lying to me, but it was pointed out I never asked specifics about your life for you to lie. You say just enough to keep it truthful and I've not asked out of respect."

"That's right," she said. "You were being respectful then but not now. I'm not sure what changed it and don't care."

"I care," he said.

"Maybe it's too late," she said.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked. "How do you think it felt to have this thrown in my face that I didn't know this about you? It makes me look like a fool."

"Glad that is all you got to feel out of it. You don't have to worry about everyone knowing how you were raised or where you came from. Of course, the world knows it and thinks you're all a feel-good story. My life is hardly anything to feel good about. I think you should leave."

"We need to talk this through," he said.

"I'm done talking." She pointed to the door. "Leave. Now!"

He turned and walked out, slamming the door as he went.

Lily went to the couch and sat down to bawl her eyes out, not remembering the last time she cried like this or felt so much despair for things out of her control.