Free Legacy by Kate Kaynak Page A

laughter.
     
     
    After dinner, we made our excuses fairly quickly.
    “You’re not staying the night?” Archer frowned. “We can roll a cot for you into the scrapbooking room, and Maddie can have the couch.”
    And that’s how Trevor found out that his grandmother had turned his bedroom into the “scrapbooking room.” I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt him try to push past the stumbling block of emotional pain that caused.
    “We can’t. Maddie throws nightmares telepathically, and I might bring the ceiling down.”
    Archer’s brows rose. “That happened to me once.”
    “It did?”
    “Woke up covered in chunks of plaster and there was a hole in the ceiling clear into the attic. We chalked it up to termites.”
    Saying our goodbyes at the door, I spoke into his head. I hope you’ll come visit us—with or without Lilith. I think you’d like it—and you might have an ability like Trevor’s.
    Archer’s eyes twinkled. “I’ve been thinking something along those lines myself.”
    I know. I smiled back at him and he laughed.
    After he shut the door, Archer watched us through the window while Lilith’s agitation simmered in the kitchen. We picked our way through little clouds of moths around the lights along the front walk.
    Trevor shifted the car into gear. “That went well.” He was surprised that he actually meant it.
    I like your grandfather . I couldn’t lie to Trevor so there really was nothing I could say about his grandmother—or his no-show mom. Really, how could they treat Trevor so callously? He deserved so much better.
    We made a quick call back to Ganzfield as we drove away. Technically, I don’t think Trevor broke any traffic laws—he still had two hands on the wheel while he talked.
    Hands-free.
    Claire sounded tired when she answered the phone. I could picture dark circles shadowing her blue eyes almost as if I could RV her. Since the Davis family had been killed, the RVs had been working in shifts to keep track of Isaiah at all times. “Rick’s got him now. He says Isaiah’s heading back toward Chicago.”
     
     
    Brighton State Recreation Area was about twenty minutes from Trevor’s grandparents’ house; he’d been there a few times as a kid. We parked the car, grabbed our bags, and snuck in past the chain across the drive. Trevor pulled his pen-sized flashlight from the pocket of his bag.
    We found a wide clearing that twinkled with the tiny lights of hundreds of fireflies. Trevor took my hand and pulled me down to sit with him. The hard ground pressed through the sleeping bag as I leaned against him. They love you, you know.
    Tonight’s visit still filled his thoughts. Yeah, I know.
    Really. Your grandmother’s primary reason for disliking me is that she thinks I’m a bad influence on you.
    Trevor gave a single laugh. They still wish that I hadn’t been born.
    They wish their daughter hadn’t gotten pregnant so young. It actually doesn’t have anything to do with you.
    Something healed a bit within him. Really?
    You know I can’t lie to you .
    Yeah, I know. Trevor kissed my temple tenderly. I’m glad we came.
    And I’m glad your mom got knocked up by a charm at sixteen.
    WHAT? He was half-shocked, half-amused.
    Well, c’mon. Look at the result! You’re amazing!
    Freak.
    Look who’s talking, Four Arms! “Ay-eeeh!” A sudden attack of four-handed tickling could still get a noise out of me.
    We rolled over until Trevor pinned me beneath him. Our eyes met in the dim light and we felt our chests press together with each breath. Then his lips were on mine. The starry sky faded and the electric flash pulled us together as energy, pulsing like ocean waves tumbling upon us. We built to a crashing, overpowering, cresting peak, and then floated together back to the world.
     
     
    The travel alarm had been set for 6 a.m., but we didn’t make it that long. My little phone rang at 5:12, a time set strongly into my mind by my first thought of the day: who the hell would be