Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

PRESLEY

There’s no way it’s the real one. Right? But why would my aunt have a replica of this famous, stolen ring. I’ve already looked up the picture on my phone to compare, and they look exactly the same.

But this can’t be the real one.

Yeah, Aunt Shannon was at the party, but she couldn’t have stolen it, right? She and Thomas had joked about it—but could there have been something more?

No.

No.

We were all searched when we left, so how is it possible she had it?

I stare at the ring for a very long time, trying to puzzle it out. I don’t think it can be real, but how can I find out? I can turn the ring in, and they can laugh at me and say it’s a fake. But what if it is real? How do I explain why I have it? I was also at that party.

How do I explain why Aunt Shannon had it? Maybe it was an accident that she ended up with it—like it got lost that night, not stolen. Yeah! She found it and … didn’t turn it in.

I should text Thomas. He would know exactly what to do. I grab my phone and tap on his picture, which is still listed under favorites. He and Shannon were so close to getting married, that he was already like family to me, the cool, fun uncle I didn’t get to keep. I can’t bear to bump him from this spot for someone else.

I start typing … and then delete the words. Then type again. Then wonder if this is something I should even be texting about. Should I call him?

So remember how you were joking about stealing that ring? I think Aunt Shannon might have actually done it…

I stop as I’m about to hit the call icon. Thomas is an FBI agent—a law enforcement official. Will he have to turn me in if I tell him? Would it get him in trouble if he doesn’t? I definitely don’t want to put him in that position.

So what do I do?

Mrs. Westcott is searching the neighborhood, convinced someone she knows stole it. I understand how badly she wants her daughter to have this ring when she gets married, but she’s relentless. What will she say about Aunt Shannon if she finds out about this? What will she try to do to my parents or me to punish us for it?

I bury my face in my hands. I definitely can’t turn this in until I have more information. Aunt Shannon is dead. She can’t defend herself.

I put the ring back in the bottom of the box, which is probably not a safe place for it, but I don’t want to put it anywhere else for now. It’s been fine for almost a year in there.

I rub at my forehead. I need to talk to someone. Looking at the rest of the stuff Aunt Shannon left me has been a roller coaster of emotions. I shake out my hands. Brock has enough on his mind. I’ll tell him about the signed copy later. Hopefully as a celebration and not to cheer him up. I put the box from Aunt Shannon back in my closet, since leaving it out next to my bed feels irresponsible now, and then grab my keys and the signed TOK book and head to my parents’ house.

“Wow.” Mom holds the book and nods in a way I’m sure she means to look impressed. She knows how important TOK is to me, but she never liked the books. (She read a couple at my urging.)

I snatch it from her. I don’t mean to be like this, but my nerves are on edge, understandably, and I feel like I’m going to explode with the information that I’m pretty sure Aunt Shannon stole the Christmas ring. But I can’t. I don’t know what Mom would say if I told her, and maybe I’m worried she’ll tell me to turn it in. Or insist on turning it in herself. I can’t do that to Aunt Shannon. Not yet. Mrs. Westcott was literally here earlier trying to search their house. What if she comes back?

Maybe Mom can ask her to sweep it under the rug, so to say, as a favor if we give it back.

Maybe Mrs. Westcott will laugh in Mom’s face and have us both arrested for being in possession of stolen property. I glance at the front window, where Mom showed me how she was marching up and down the street, insisting she could search people’s houses. There’s no way she’d let this go.

I keep my focus on the book. “Mom. This is a really big deal.” I hold the book to my chest.

“I know, sweetie.”

“There are like maybe twenty-five signed copies in the world .” I plop down into a chair across from where she sits in their family room, wishing I could talk to her about the ring and not just the book. My frustration is coming out in my annoyance about her reaction to the book.

Dad is appropriately engrossed in book four of TOK, which I loaned to him, with my knowledge this time. It’s taking him forever, so I’m glad he’s not actually officially in my TOK book club with Brock.

“Right.” Mom nods again solemnly.

“How did Aunt Shannon even get this? And why didn’t she tell me? Did she say anything to you?” I fire off questions too fast for Mom to answer. Maybe she’ll somehow know I need answers about the ring, too, since I have all the same questions about it.

“She never said anything to me.” Mom shrugs.

So I spin on Dad. “What are they saying about Brock? Have you heard anything?” I pace across the kitchen toward the family room. Finding the ring is a distraction from obsessing over Brock’s career status, all right, just not the kind that’s making me feel better.

Mom answers before Dad can. “Why don’t you ask Brock? I’m sure he’d be happy to update you.”

“It’s not like that with us. We’re friends.”

“Sweetie. No one spends that much time talking to someone they’re just friends with.”

“I spend that much time talking to you,” I point out. She rolls her eyes.

Dad lowers his reading glasses and looks over at me. “Jeff says the Cobras are definitely going to be interested, and he thinks the Rays will make an offer,” he relays, speaking of a buddy of his who used to scout for the Rays.

My eyes widen. “The Rays?” That makes sense. One of the offensive linemen got hurt in a pre-season game. I can’t remember if he played left-tackle, the same position as Brock. But even so, the Rays aren’t strong there anyway, and in the last couple years, the coach has been building what he’s calling his dream team. He wants a group of guys who aren’t just all-stars. He wants guys who are good players who play well together as a team. The complete package. Brock would fit right into that, plus, thanks to his friendship with Lincoln, he’s already got a rapport with guys on the offense. The Rays GM and coach would know that.

“Jeff’s sure there’s going to be a good offer?” I ask.

Dad’s scoffs. “Everyone is sure, Pres. The Devils are stupid to let him go over this. Coach Bell is too prideful. Doesn’t like that everyone’s agreeing with Brock, so he has to let him go instead of take a good, hard look at his team and the rumors that are piling up.”

“Then why are all the analysts saying how bad this is for Brock and talking about how nobody wants to deal with his temper?” I squeeze my hands together. I definitely trust my dad more than any of the talking heads on the sports networks, but everything in me feels like it’s bouncing around with energy.

“Clicks and views, Pres.”

I let out a long breath. “Okay.”

“You need to tell Brock,” Mom says.

I turn and blink at her. “Tell him what? That Jeff thinks the Rays are going to make an offer? That’s not going to help anything. Besides, I’m sure he knows already.”

“No. Tell him about your feelings. I’ve never seen you so excited about someone, and you obviously care about him. Why waste time?”

“I don’t know how he feels about me.” I look over at Dad, like he might have something to contribute, but he’s already raised his book back up.

“Obviously he feels the same,” Mom says. “He texted you at eleven o’clock at night to come and see you on Thanksgiving.” She says this like it’s all the evidence I need.

It works. “He had a bad day, and we’re friends.”

“Exactly. He had a bad day, and he turned to you .”

“Technically, he went to Thanksgiving Dinner with Lincoln first.”

Mom sticks a finger into the romcom book she was reading when I came over. She and Aunt Shannon shared their love of romcoms, and they constantly passed books back and forth. I wonder how many of her books she gave to Mom. Probably most of them.

“You can’t stay in this friendship afraid of what will happen if you say something,” she says. “Friendships like this don’t last forever. One of you is going to meet someone and then what you have now is gone anyway.” She picks the book up and waves it at me, like this is all the evidence I need.

“Are you giving me advice from a romance book?” Ironic, considering the quotes I keep spouting to Brock. I thought of one today for him, from book five when Elysande says, “The one with hope is always brighter than one without, even when that hope falls through.”

“Who better to give advice than someone who researches love regularly?”

She has a point. She has a lot of good points, actually. I’m falling for Brock. Hard.

The only thing holding me back is fear that he doesn’t feel the same way and knowing that if he doesn’t, I’ll lose something precious. That’s hard to swallow, but also not a good reason to hold me back.

Part of me wants more time to figure this out, but I’ve known Brock since June. He could meet someone else any day, and everything we have will go up in smoke. He might still text me about TOK, but it won’t be like it is now.

I stand up. “Well, I’m going home.” I pick up the collector’s edition and put it carefully inside my bag. I’m going to stop and buy a display case for it on the way home.

“There’s leftover banana cream pie,” Mom says. I don’t know why she didn’t lead with this when I walked in the door. Pie would have helped a lot of the nerves still pinging through me like tiny kickers are having punting practice in my stomach. I put my bag back down.

“Okay, I’ll stay for a little pie.”

Presley: YOU WILL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT I HAVE TO TELL YOU.

Brock: Please don’t yell at me, Granny Presley. I don’t have the bandwidth for it today.

Brock: And if this shouting is about you finishing book 10, save it. I finished it this morning and then listened to book 11 on 3x speed. Just got done. BOOM.

Presley: Okay, now who’s the grandparent?

Brock:

Presley: I can’t believe this. I’m so tempted to call that cheating and say it’s not actually reading, but people who say that about audiobooks are trolls, so fine.

Presley: MY NEWS IS STILL BETTER AND WARRANTS SHOUTING.

Presley: Also I need to Facetime you. Can I? This needs to be SEEN.

Brock: How about I check it out in person? Just flew in for a meeting. Want to grab dinner?