Free Tribe (Tribe 1) by Audrina Cole Page A

out the front door. “She was out back, pulling the patio furniture out of the shed like I asked her to, so I could sit outside now that it’s nicer weather. I left her a note.”
    River was sitting half-turned in his seat, watching Alex.
    “Hi, I’m Alex.”
    “Uh…I know.”
    “And you are…?”
    “That’s River. My brother.” I angled my rear view mirror just a bit so I could see Alex. “Where are we going?”
    “Anywhere. Someplace we can talk. Alone. No offense, River.”
    “No problem.” But River was disappointed. He wanted a front-row seat to the impending implosion of my life.
    “There’s a park nearby,” Alex suggested. “I guess we could go there.”
    As we drove, I tried to rein in my anxiety. I could feel River getting antsy in the seat beside me. I stole glances at Alex in the rearview mirror. He looked good. Too good. And though it took me a full two minutes to realize it, the stench of the chemo was almost entirely absent. I had to pay attention in order to detect the faintest whiff of it.
    Alex directed me to a park about a mile from his house. We left River in the car to listen to the radio while we walked over to a picnic table under a shelter in an isolated area of the park. I sat down, and he paced in front of the table.
    I tried to talk about the weather, putting off the inevitable, but Alex wasn’t having that.
    “What did you do?” His expression was stern.
    “What?” My voice was small and quiet, like a child who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
    “You know what I’m talking about. I’ve been trying to figure it out for a few days now. But there’s only one answer. It was you.”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I forced my face into a mask of innocence.
    “The doctors did new scans on Wednesday—”
    Oh crap. I started to panic.
    “—and you know what they found?” He stopped pacing, his gaze riveted on me.
    “Uh…no.” I glanced over toward the car, where River had perked up in his seat, watching us. He sensed something was amiss.
    “Nothing!”
    “N-nothing?” I stammered.
    “Or almost nothing. The cancer was almost completely gone!”
    That’s impossible. It’s far too soon. I didn’t know how to respond, and my breath came fast and shallow. “That’s…great. I’m so happy for you.” But my congratulations sounded weak, even to me.
    “Ember.” He leaned forward, placing both hands on the table. “On Saturday I was dying. While we were talking I had terrible spasms of pain. Then you put your hands on me, and five minutes later I felt better than I had in months.”
    I gulped, then pasted what I hoped was a seductive smile on my face. “Well, I’m flattered. Any time I can help, just ask.” I winked at him.
    Something flickered in his eyes, then it was gone. Angry, he pushed away from the table and resumed his pacing, his voice strident. “It wasn’t just that day. I’ve felt better and better every day since then. I haven’t felt this good in a year . I have some color back, I’ve gained fifteen pounds, and my hair is growing back.” He whipped his olive baseball cap off and bent forward, scrubbing his hand over the dark brown fuzz that covered his head. “Half an inch long in a week! How is that possible?”
    “I…” my brain wasn’t cooperating, and my well of witty comebacks had run dry. His healing shouldn’t have worked so quickly. It didn’t make sense, and now all my parents’ dire predictions were coming true.
    I hate it when that happens.
    I gazed down at the cracked wood of the tabletop, hoping for inspiration to hit.
    Alex sat down across from me at the picnic table, leaning forward. “Look at me Ember. Look into my eyes.”
    I looked up, and his eyes were no longer dark and agony-filled as they had been before. The pain was gone, and their color was more like a warm, chocolate brown.
    “Tell me,” he continued, “that you have no idea what I’m talking about. Tell me to my face that