The Cousins(38)

“Wow.” Milly blinks, giving the full Milly Story-Takahashi eyelash effect. “You’re getting right to it, aren’t you?”

Hazel smiles apologetically, but keeps her pen poised. “It’s really interesting, from a sociological perspective, how the knowledge of a theoretical parallel life might affect the goals and aspirations of a new generation.”

I slouch deeper into the armchair, but Milly straightens beside me. “You know what else is interesting?” she asks. “What people on Gull Cove Island think about what happened between my grandmother and our parents. I’d love to know what the local theories are.”



“Oh gosh.” Hazels lets out a guilty little laugh. “Do you really want to know? Some of the things people say are pretty out there.” There’s a clattering sound to my left as Dr. Baxter, who just took a noisy sip of tea, puts his cup back down and almost misses the saucer.

“I really do,” Milly confirms.

Hazel tugs at her earring. “Well, the most common theory is that your grandmother had a breakdown after your grandfather died. Like, she was practically a hermit for a while, refusing to see anybody except her kids. And then she wouldn’t see them, either. But Granddad has known Mrs. Story for years, and he never thought she was actually unstable,” Hazel adds, turning to Dr. Baxter. “Did you, Granddad?”

“Well, no,” Dr. Baxter says hesitantly. He looks even more uncomfortable than I feel, which is…interesting. I forget my disappearing act and lean forward for a better look at his face. The motion makes him turn my way, and his forehead creases in a deep frown. “You look nothing like Anders,” he says abruptly.

Shit. I slouch right back into the shadows as Milly quickly says, “What are some of the other theories, Hazel? The ones that are ‘out there.’?” She puts the last two words in finger quotes.

Hazel glances my way, and I rub a hand over my face like I’m thinking. Even though what I’m really doing is hiding. “Well, it’s funny what Granddad said about Jonah,” she says slowly. “He doesn’t look like Anders, does he? And Anders never looked like anybody else. Some people think Anders wasn’t actually Mildred’s son, that Abraham had a love child he forced his wife to raise as their own.” Aubrey’s eyes pop as Hazel adds, “They say Mrs. Story tried to disinherit only Anders when her husband died, and the other kids left the island with him in solidarity.”



“That wouldn’t happen,” Aubrey says, so quickly that I snort.

“Hell no,” Milly agrees.

“And some things are just creepy,” Hazel says. “Like, there’s this gross rumor that one of Allison’s brothers got her pregnant, and the rest of them tried to cover it up. But Mildred found out, and went ballistic on all of them. And that the baby is still—”

“What?” Milly interrupts in a piercing shriek. The look on her face is flat-out murderous. “People actually say that? That’s completely and utterly disgusting!”

Hazel looks like she wants to crawl under the couch. I think she might’ve legitimately forgotten, for a few minutes, that she was talking about a real family. “I know. I’m sorry,” she says, slamming the cover of her notebook closed. “I didn’t mean— Look, no one actually believes it. Honestly. People just like to gossip and make shit up.”

Milly stares blankly at Hazel, like she’s about to burst into furious tears, and I have the irrational urge to punch someone. Not Hazel, obviously. Or her grandfather. But someone. Even Aubrey, who always struck me as the kind of person who’d release bugs outdoors instead of squashing them, looks ready to fight. Her hands are curled at her sides as she says, “I’d more easily believe they all killed somebody than that.”

There’s a crashing sound then, as Dr. Baxter’s knee knocks heavily into the tray table in front of him. The three girls turn toward him in unison as he fumbles for his teacup, staring at the bottom like it’s disappointed him. “Where’s my hot chocolate?” he asks, moving his watery gaze somewhere over Hazel’s shoulder. “Katherine, it’s time for hot chocolate.”



“No it isn’t, Granddad. You aren’t supposed to have refined sugar. And Mom’s not here,” Hazel says with a sigh. She gets to her feet and moves the tray table a safe distance from the couch. “Katherine is my mother,” she adds over her shoulder. “I think I’d better get him settled upstairs. It’s not a great sign when he starts mixing us up.”

She helps her grandfather stand, and holds him steady as they begin a slow shuffle across the room. He’s still mumbling about hot chocolate when he passes Milly and Aubrey, both of whom look deeply unsettled. I’m pretty sure neither of them noticed that Dr. Baxter had clear, alert eyes on Hazel the entire time she was talking—right up until he deliberately bumped the table with his knee.





I’ll admit, I overpacked for the summer. But when I got dressed for my visit to Donald Camden’s office this morning, I was glad for my navy sheath and high-heeled sandals. I was heading for the closest thing Gull Cove Island has to a corporate environment, and I wanted to blend in. Now that I’m seated in the plush waiting area, though, I’m not sure why I bothered. I haven’t seen a single other person except the receptionist, who’s currently filing her nails.