Chapter 16 LIES

Chapter 16 LIES
GRACE 

“Hello,” Elliot says quietly.

I almost roll my eyes. He's the last person I want to see right now.

But… It all makes sense now. He thinks I’m someone else the last time. Maybe he still believes I’m that Hazel girl from the other day.

I should clear this up before he keeps going.

I force a small smile. “Hi, Elliot.” I say politely. “Erm, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’m not Hazel—”

“I know,” he cuts in before I finish.

I blink. He knows? Then… Why is he here?

“Can I at least come in?” he asks, sounding awkward while shifting his weight to his other leg. “I’ve been standing around for a while.”

I look at him for a moment and then meet his eyes again. “I’d let you in, but… I don’t really know you. I’m sorry.”

He nods slowly, like he expected that.

“I understand, Grace.”

I frown. Woah. He already knows my name.

“But I’m not one of the bad people you might think I am,” he adds quickly. “I just want to talk. And also… I’ve really liked your artwork ever since I saw it. Maybe that counts as a reason?”

Right. I did show him some of my frames the other day.

I let out a quiet breath, step aside, and open the door wider, allowing him to come in.

I shut the door as soon as he steps fully inside. His eyes scan my small sitting room until I clear my throat to pull his attention back.

“Sorry. I got carried away,” he mutters.

I still feel uneasy having someone I barely know inside my apartment. Sure, he looks harmless, pretty decent, even, but dangerous people don’t exactly walk around with labels on their foreheads.

“I’m just surprised your home doesn’t match your profession,” he says.

I frown. “You mean it doesn’t look messy with paint all over the floor? Or frames hanging in every corner of the room? Well… I’m not that kind of artist. So, if you don’t mind, can we skip to the part where you tell me why you’re actually here?”

The words rush out faster than I intend. He lowers his head for a moment, and I hear him chuckle softly.

What’s he laughing at? What's so funny?

He looks up again with a small smile still on his face. “Has anyone told you you’re quite a talker? And really funny?”

I narrow my eyes. “Maybe because I don’t give people a reason to think that.”

“Then I guess I’m lucky,” he replies. “I can’t wait to see what other surprises you have.”

I shift in my chair. “Wait… is that why you came all the way here, Elliot? To see what ‘surprises’ I have?”

He shakes his head. “No, Grace. I didn’t come to waste your time.”

“Good. Because I was already planning to chase you out.”

He doesn’t laugh this time.

“I—”

My phone rings before he can finish. I glance at it on the table.

“I’m sorry, I need to take this.”

“Alright,” he says softly.

I stand up and walk to my room, shutting the door halfway before answering.

“Hello, dear.” Mrs. Kate’s voice sounds from the other end.

I press my fingers to my forehead softly.  “How are you, Mrs. Kate?” I whisper.

My other hand fiddles with the little slit on my dress, praying she doesn’t add another problem to the day.

“I’m alright, Grace. I’m sorry I didn’t call you back.”

“No, it’s fine. I know you’ve been busy.”

The silence that follows knocks the breath out of me. Silence from her is never good.

“I think we should stop looking for Evans, Grace,” she finally says. “It’s been over a year now. There’s still no clue where his adoptive parents moved to. I really tried—”

“Please don’t,” I cut in quickly. “We’re talking about my son, Mrs. Kate. You can’t ask me to give up on him again. I just… I just need to know he’s okay. That’s all I want.”

She sighs, a long and heavy one.

My stomach twists. I hate myself for that night. The night I gave my baby to the orphanage. I was scared, I was confused, and I didn’t even follow the right procedure. Now I don’t even know if he’s safe… or even where he is.

“Grace?” Mrs. Kate’s voice slips through my thoughts. None of this is her fault, and I know it.

“It’s alright, Mrs. Kate,” I say quietly. “I’ll find someone else to help. You’ve done more than enough.”

“Oh, honey… I wish I could do more. I know how much you miss Vance.”

The tears rise fast, burning behind my eyes. I blink hard and steady my voice before it cracks.

She hesitates before continuing, her voice gentler than before.

“Grace… I know this isn’t the right time, but I’m still worried about his father. Any news? He should be looking for him too, right?”

I wipe my face with the back of my hand and bite my lower lip. Mrs. Kate doesn’t know anything about his father, because I never told her I already found him.

“I have no idea where he is,” I lie, my voice quiet. “And I don’t intend to find out.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Kate. I’ll call you later.”

She exhales, long and heavy. She’s just like my late grandma, she never pressures me, even when she disagrees.

“Alright, dear.” she says eventually.

I end the call, take a breath, and wipe the remaining tears before walking back to the living room.

Elliot’s eyes find mine instantly, but I look away.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” I say, trying to steady my voice.

“It’s fine,” he answers, standing. He studies my face too closely before I can turn away.

“I think you should leave now,” I say, trying to keep control of the moment. “Maybe we can talk another time.”

But then he steps forward. And his hand closes around mine, gentle but firm enough to stop me from slipping away.

I freeze. His eyes, warm golden-brown, settle on me like he’s trying to read every crack I’m hiding behind the straight face.

“Grace,” he murmurs, “are you okay?”

I try to pull back, but his grip tightens slightly, steady, but not forceful. His other hand rises and tilts my chin toward him with the lightest touch.

My breath catches. “Elliot…”

“Shh,” he whispers. “Stop convincing yourself I’m here to hurt you. You don’t look… so good. And I’m worried. Anyone would be.”

That word—worried—makes something twist in my chest. Why would he worry about someone he doesn’t even know?

I push his hands away, needing air, needing distance between us. “Elliot, you don’t know me well enough to worry. And I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

He smiles slowly but intentionally, like he isn’t offended at all.

“Then let’s change that.” He gives a small pause while still holding my gaze. “How about a date?”

My heart jolts instantly. “A date?”

His smile widens slightly, as if he knew exactly what effect those words would have.

“Don’t say no yet,” he says quietly. “Just think about it. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He doesn’t give me the chance to protest. Before I can even form a reply, he gives me one last calm, steady, and warm look, in a way that isn’t flirtatious, yet still hits deeper than it should.

Then he turns and reaches for the door. A soft click sounds behind me.

Just like that, the room goes painfully quiet.