Free Love Is More Than Skin Deep (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 4) by Mary Crawford Page B

grown another head as she remarks, “Duh, don’t you remember the last time we made them together, she almost ate a whole pan full of cookies all by herself? Obviously, she likes them. Otherwise I wouldn’t have made them for her. Come on, let’s go. I want to have enough time to play games. I heard that her friend Tristan has a killer system.”
    “Ketki,” I warn. “You know we’re going over there to visit with Shelby. I’d rather you not just get lost in your games. Remember that she’s still really tender and she’s not supposed to move much. I don’t know if it’s safe for you guys to get involved in one of your epic video game battles. You two are like ninja warriors crossed with gymnasts when you play. Besides, you’re going to be a guest in Rogue’s home, you can’t be scoping out their video equipment. That’s just rude.”
    Ketki rolls her eyes at me as she responds, “Dad, I know. Shelby told me all this stuff before she had the operation. I know how to be safe around her.”
    With every Skype call and visit with Shelby, I marvel at their relationship. Ketki is very slow to trust people and I hardly ever see her get excited over relationships with others unless they’re fictional characters in her video games. It’s actually quite astonishing. I set my computer down and grab the tray of cookies as we head out the door.
    As I hold open the door for my daughter, I joke, “Well are you coming or do I have to wait all day?”
    Ketki wrinkles her nose at me as she retorts, “Very funny Dad. I waited two hours, thirty-seven minutes and twenty-two seconds for you to be finished with your work.”
    I look at my watch and realize that she’s probably correct, but we’re making progress. At least she realizes I intended it to be a joke.  

    Ketki stops short when she sees Shelby resting on the 70’s style chaise lounge in Tristan’s den. She has a stack of books around her on the floor and on her lap, but it looks like she just drifted off to sleep. I can understand why Ketki is a little taken aback. Most of Shelby’s wounds are lightly covered in gauze, but the ones on her face and neck are a little more difficult to conceal, and they look angry for lack of a better term. She’s wearing a halter top with fringe so I can see that the tube that was draining some of her deepest incisions is now gone. I try to cover my emotions because I don’t want to upset Ketki, but the scene in front of me is unmistakably unsettling.
    Ketki pulls on my shirt and asks, “Is Shelby supposed to look like that? Her cuts look worse and she looks so white.”
    I kneel down in front of Ketki and quietly answer, “She’s been through a lot and she’s going to be paler than us because she’s not Cherokee, remember?”
    When Shelby hears our voices, she struggles to sit up. “Hey Ki, hope you brought your DS. I’m bored out of my mind.”
    I’m a little stunned to hear Shelby address Ketki by her pet name, but when I think about it, it’s not that surprising at all. In some ways, Ketki is closer to Shelby than she is with me.
    Ketki nods and answers, “I did. But why are you so white?”
    Shelby just groans as she replies, “Don’t remind me about that. That’s what started this whole thing or so the doctors say. When I was a teenager my foster mom had friends with older teenage girls. I wanted to fit in and be popular. But I was one of the most backwards kids you ever saw. I didn’t know anything about fashion, makeup or boys. I hadn’t even been to school in years. I was really insecure about that in fact. I didn’t really even want anybody to know about my weird past. I wanted to pretend that I was somebody else. I wanted to fit into this new foster home. These people were everything that my real family wasn’t.”
    “They were?” Ketki queries.  
    Shelby frowns. “They were loaded with money. Sadly, their own daughter had some sort of incurable hard to face disease that they knew was going to