When Hanna Haddad embarks on what's supposed to be another uneventful summer as a lifeguard on Cape Cod, a trip to the past comes as an unnerving surprise. The discovery of her estranged mother's journal opens up the world of tragedy and deception u...
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"I don't really remember you all that well, but I saw this picture recently, and the man in it looked so much like you. But I thought I was seeing things outside." I moved away from the shelf of photos, tightening my arms over my front. "I'm sorry for snooping around. I-I should probably go, Mr. Carlowe."
He shook his head, holding up a dismissive palm. "Hanna, it's completely fine. I haven't heard much from your family in years, so this is more of a wonderful coincidence than anything." I felt like I let out my first breath this whole party upon hearing that, but it hitched in my throat again at the word coincidence. Was this much happenstance even possible? "After my wife, Samantha, passed away, we all lost touch. It never went back to the way it used to be."
"I'm so sorry for your loss," I whispered, but he waved it off, knowing my words couldn't do anything. I hated how there were a million things more I wanted to say, but I knew most of them would never leave my mouth.
Starting with the fact I had been reading about my boyfriend's parents for the last two months without even knowing.
Benjamin gestured for me to sit down on the couch as he took a seat in the armchair across from it. I bit the inside of my cheek nervously and looked up at him, still finding it strange to gaze into those familiar blue eyes.
"Would Jesse—would he remember who I was? My dad told me we would visit your family every now and then."
He shook his head. "You two didn't like each other very much. Whenever he'd walk into the room, you'd cling to your mother." Oh, how the tables have turned, I thought before realizing he'd I evaded my question. "If you don't mind me asking, how is Annie? I haven't seen her since my wedding."
I froze, gripping the cushion of the couch with one hand. I always reacted differently to this question. Sometimes I'd lie and say she was fine, and other times I'd just sit there, stone-faced.
This time I did neither. I started to cry.
It was less dramatic than it sounded; my eyes welled up more than anything. I tried to wipe them before my tears grew too noticeable, but Benjamin wasn't blind. He leaned over the coffee table and handed me a wad of tissues, but the grim look on his face made it seem like he was expecting the worst.
He waited as I dabbed at the corner of my eyes and took a few deep breaths before he said anything else. "Hanna, Annie—your mother—she's okay, right?
I felt so bad for making his mind head in that direction. "Oh God. Yes, she's alive and well. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you think that."
"You don't have to apologize," he said and leaned back in his chair. "I take it that your emotions have something to do with your parents' divorce?"
I nodded slowly, looking down at my lap. "It was really hard at first, and it still kind of is. But I know that the way things are between my mother and me is partly my fault."
