Free Unforgivable by Tina Wainscott

down the steps. I didn’t even hear him, not until he landed in a thump on the floor.” Her voice went tight. 
    Stop being so damn sentimental. 
    “He laid in my arms staring up at me with his crossed eyes. He had a condition known as strabismus, permanently crossed eyes.” A laugh escaped. “Do you know how many times I had to tell people that he wasn’t a Siamese? Aside from having a little trouble nabbing flies on the windowsill, he could see pretty well.” Her laughter faded as she found herself back in the cold, damp basement. “I couldn’t figure out why he’d come downstairs. He didn’t do stairs well. He was purring.” She wiped at her eyes. “Purring, like he was happy. He looked up at me the best he could, the way he always had. Like he loved me, with a slow blink. He raised his paw to me. And then he died.” The last word was swallowed in a cry, and she turned away. “This is silly. He’s been gone for nine years.”
    Silas got to his feet and went inside. She’d embarrassed him. Well, great, she’d embarrassed herself, too. But
    He came back with a wad of toilet paper. “Sorry, it’s all I’ve got.”
    “Thanks.” She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. “It’s silly.” 
    “No, it’s not.” His voice was soft, and it pulled her gaze to his. He touched her cheek, and that simple touch warmed her all over. “There’s nothing silly about feeling pain. You’ve had a lot of pain in your life. I wish I could take it away.”
    She shook her head, because she couldn’t take the feel of his hand against her cheek another moment without acting on it. “I’ve been lucky in many ways.”
    He rested his arm on his knee. “Maybe.”
    It was an odd remark, and its implications shivered through her. As though he knew her doubts, as though he could see right into her soul. She’d gotten so good at pretending. No way could he, who knew her hardly at all, figure out what she’d told no one. The Boss groaned as he hefted himself from the floor and moved closer to Silas.
    “Still think about your mom?”
    “Every day,” she said without thinking. What was it about Silas that made her open up? “She was my age when she died.”
    “And you’re feeling very mortal.”
    Her eyes widened. “Stop it.”
    “Stop what?”
    “Whatever it is that you’re doing.” She remembered the rumors she’d heard about him being strange. “You’re scaring me.”
    His expression went still and dark. “Don’t be afraid of me, Katie. You trusted me when no one else did.”
    “Tell me why you’re back.”
    “It was something I had to do.” The intense way he looked at her…
    “Maybe I should go—”
    “Tell me about your mom,” he said at the same time, stopping her.
    “What?” The word came out a whisper.
    He leaned forward, not into her comfort zone, but he was still discomforting all the same. “Tell me what she was thinking just before she died. That’s what you’re searching for, isn’t it? You’re afraid that whatever got to her will get to you.”
    “Either explain how you know these things or stop saying them.”
    “Just talk to me.”
    She would have gotten up then, if he weren’t so right. The sun was filtering through the tops of the trees on its descent. It was still light out, even though it was evening. But here on the porch, tucked beneath the massive oaks, it was cool and shadowy. That fit the man sitting next to her , too.
    “She seemed fine,” she said at last. “At least from a nine-year-old’s point of view. She had a hard life, worked hard. She seemed to live in a world of fear and distrust, though I never understood why. We were dirt poor, but I thought we had it all. Just the two of us together forever, I thought. She wasn’t happy with me hanging out at the hospital with Ben. Or you. She thought it was inappropriate. I was mad at her, because seeing Boots meant everything to me.” So had seeing Silas. “I wanted to punish her by sneaking out and staying the