Free The Missing- Volume II- Lies by A. Meredith Walters, A. M. Irvin

but I just liked being here. It was better than being at home.”
    Maren chewed on her bottom lip. “There’s more to that story, isn’t there?”
    I clasped my hands in my lap, squeezing until it hurt. “Isn’t there always?” I responded lightly.
    Maren began to write in her notebook, and I watched her draw music notes on the page.
    “Tell me the story, Nora. I want to hear it,” she urged.
    I wanted to sit closer to her but, after the earlier weirdness, I was scared to. I wanted an intimacy with Maren. I ached to be near her. To talk to her. To share things with her that I had only ever told Bradley.
    He won’t like it.
    I worried about Bradley and what he would think about my bringing Maren here.
    But more than that, I wanted to give her everything that I had. Every ugly, horrible thing. Every sad story. Every dream. Every wish.
    I trusted her to keep them safe.
    “We all have things that are hard to talk about, Nora. But trust me when I say that it’s better to let it out than to keep it in.” She took my hand in hers and I could cry from the joy of it. “And I’d be honored if you share it with me. I’ll keep your secrets.” She made an x over her heart. “Promise.”
    She didn’t drop my hand. She held it tightly. My palm between hers.
    She made it look so easy to be honest and open. I wanted to be that way for her.
    “There was a fire. My father died soon after that. I don’t talk about him much,” I said in a rush.
    “I’m sorry, Nora,” Maren replied softly, squeezing my cold fingers.
    “After the fire, my dad took everything out of his workshop and never made another saddle. Not that it mattered. Three months later, he was gone.”
    I didn’t really want to talk about my dad or his death that I didn’t know much about. Maren seemed to pick up on that so she didn’t push.
    “What caused the fire?” she asked.
    I frowned, feeling a familiar anger.
    “Rosie,” I murmured.
    “Rosie?” Maren repeated. I hated the sound of her name on Maren’s lips. It was vile and filthy.
    “My foster sister.” I dug my nails into Maren’s hand and she winced, pulling away.
    Stupid, stupid Nora!
    “She burned it. She lit the match. She spilled the gasoline. It was all her fault.”
    “Why would she do that?” Maren asked, sounding horrified.
    “Because she was jealous,” I spat out. “I was here with my dad and she had wanted to come. She didn’t like being left behind.”
    Maren was chewing on her bottom lip again. “That seems like an extreme reaction to being left at home. She sounds crazy!”
    “She was. The craziest, most awful person I have ever known.” I couldn’t think about Rosie without wanting to hurt. Myself. Someone else.
    “What happened to her? Your foster sister?”
    I smiled. A real, honest smile. “She went away. She couldn’t live with us any longer. Not after the fire.”
    Maren was watching me and I liked it. I enjoyed her attention. “That made you happy, didn’t it?” she surmised.
    “I was glad she wasn’t here anymore.”
    Maren picked up her pen again and started scribbling more music notes in her notebook. “It sounds like you had every reason to be glad she was gone. What a horrible person.”
    I nodded, glad that she agreed with me. “What about you? Tell me your stories,” I prompted her.
    Maren laughed slightly and looked bashful. “There’s nothing much to tell. I don’t have anything interesting to share.”
    I reached out and took her hand again, not caring that it made me look desperate and weak. Because with Maren I was all of those things and all I could do was embrace it.
    “I don’t believe that for a minute, Maren. I bet you’ve experienced all sorts of interesting things.”
    Maren shrugged. “Well, what do you want to know?”
    I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Everything.”
    Maren’s eyes met mine and we stared at each other for a long time. Neither of us saying a thing. I feared that she wouldn’t tell me