Don't Make a Sound (Sawyer Brooks #1)(14)

Harper sighed. “Do you want hot tea?”

“No, thanks.”

Harper plopped down on a stool, took a sip from her mug, and said, “I heard about Gramma Sally.”

Sawyer lifted a brow. “Who told you?”

“Dennis left Aria a message,” Harper said without emotion.

It used to bother Sawyer that Harper referred to their parents by their first names, Dennis and Joyce. But Harper could be like their mother at times—cold and set in her ways. If Sawyer wanted any sort of relationship with her niece and nephew, it was best if she chose her battles with her older sister carefully. “I thought you and Aria no longer talked to Mom or Dad.”

Harper shrugged. “You know Aria.”

Yeah, she did. Sweet, forgiving Aria. “The funeral is Friday.”

“You can’t possibly go.”

“I’m going,” Sawyer said. “Gramma Sally was the only good thing left in River Rock. I want to say goodbye.”

“And yet you haven’t been to see her lately, have you?”

“I don’t want to argue with you. You know I’ve been busy.” Sawyer used to drive back home once a month. Once a month became every other month, and finally once or twice a year. First it was studying that had kept Sawyer away, and then the internship with the Sacramento Independent. The last time she’d seen Gramma was a year and a half ago. By then, Gramma Sally could hardly move and had lost her ability to communicate through words.

“There’s no way you can make a three-and-a-half-hour drive alone with your anxiety. You told me yourself that the mind does funny things when you have too much time to think.”

Had she told her sister that?

“The panic and fear will set in,” Harper went on, “then the dry mouth, nausea, tingling hands. Terrified, you’ll pull to the side of the road to call me. You’ll need me to come get you, and this time I will say no.”

“That only happened once,” Sawyer reminded her.

“Twice.”

“I’ve been working on my anxiety. I’ll be fine. I haven’t had an episode in months.”

Harper’s gaze roamed freely over her. She was scrutinizing, judging as she often did. “So what happened to you today?”

Before she had a chance to tell her about Connor, they heard the front door open and close. Aria stepped into the main room where she could see them in the kitchen.

The last time Sawyer had seen Aria, her hair had been purple. Today it was turquoise. At five foot three, Aria was the shortest of the sisters. She was also the prettiest, and all the tattoos and piercings merely added to her cool, edgy look.

Aria looked from Harper to Sawyer. “What’s going on?”

Sawyer lifted a brow as she chewed. Where to start?

“What did Connor do?” Harper asked as she moved to the sink and began scrubbing perfectly clean porcelain.

“Oh,” Aria said, as if she’d figured it all out in a matter of seconds. She joined them in the kitchen and took a seat close to Sawyer. “Did Connor mess around with someone else?”

Sawyer turned to her. “Why would you say that?”

Aria clamped her mouth shut.

Sawyer nudged her arm. “Tell me what you know.”

“Nothing that you don’t know already,” Aria said. “He’s a narcissist. All he wants to do is talk about himself, and he’s the most uninteresting person I’ve ever met.”

“You told me you liked him.”

“Did I?”

“Spit it out,” Harper demanded. “What happened between you and Connor?”

Sawyer chewed, swallowed, then said, “I went home to get my camera for work and found Connor in bed with another woman.”

“Awesome,” Aria said. “Now you can move on and forget he was ever in your life. He did you a favor.”

“You can move in with us,” Harper said, looking at Sawyer as if she could be her newest project.

Sawyer groaned. They had no idea what she and Connor had been through. It had taken forever for her to trust him enough to let him kiss her and touch her. It disheartened Sawyer to think he’d so casually tossed her trust in him aside. Sawyer set her fork down. “I’m not hungry.” She stood, and Harper took her plate before she could take care of it herself. “I should get my things from my car and make the couch up. I want to be sure I get plenty of sleep before the drive to River Rock.”

“River Rock?” Aria asked.

“Yes,” Sawyer said. “I’m going to Gramma’s funeral.”

Aria blinked. “Why? She’s dead.”

Sawyer’s head was already throbbing when the cat shot through the house.

“Was that a raccoon?” Aria asked.

“It’s a cat I found. He was starving.”

“You brought a cat with you?”

“He’s not staying,” Harper chimed in. “I think Nate might be allergic.”

“Can you take care of him until I get back?” Sawyer asked Aria.

“Of course.”

Harper moaned.

Aria pointed to Sawyer’s neck. “Did the cat do that?”

Sawyer nodded, then gestured toward the door. “I need to get my things.”

“So you won’t go to Gramma’s, right?”