Page 12 of Unbound

“So you do believe your dad was in an accident, but you don’t think he was the driver.” I set down my coffee cup, leaning on the counter between us. “Who is it you think was behind the wheel?”

Sybil rubs her lips together, shifting just a little in her seat. “I don’t know for sure.”

“I didn’t ask who you knew for sure was behind the wheel. I asked who you think was behind the wheel.” I don’t even know how I’m going to grasp the full ramifications of what I think she’s about to say, but I do know I need to learn the truth. No matter the fallout. Even if it’s ugly and convoluted and messy. I don’t care. I need closure.

Sybil’s pretty blue eyes shimmer a little in the overhead light as they move across my face. “I think it was your mother.”

Even expecting the words, they’re still like a punch to the gut. Outside of her death, searching for the truth of what happened that day has been the most painful thing I’ve dealt with. It’s reopened old wounds, making them raw and painful for the first time in years.

I’ve gone two-thirds of my life without her, but still miss my mom to the depths of my soul every day. She was my everything. The person who always understood me. The person who loved me without limits or conditions. She was the best person I’ve ever known, and the fact that she’s not here and so many awful people are is a fucking travesty.

“I’ve been hunting for the truth of what happened to my dad for over a year now. I’ve gone through countless accident reports looking for one that matched up. Because I thought maybe some of what we were told was true. And when I found pictures of what your mother’s car looked like after the accident⁠—”

“What do you mean, pictures of my mother’s car?” I stand, spine snapping straight. “There aren’t any pictures.” The suspicion I have toward Sybil comes racing back in.

I went through hundreds of documents when Toby, Ruth, and I went to the archives, not a single one included images from that day. I assumed they were either lost or shoved into some random box on the overflowing shelves, but if Sybil has actually seen them…

“There are pictures, if you know where to look.” For the first time, Sybil takes a sip of her coffee, drinking down the whole cup in one go. “I’m really tired. I should probably go to sleep.”

“Not until you tell me where you found pictures of my mother’s car.”

The only information I have about the state of my mother’s car is what Aunt Deidre was able to remember from when she went to the impound lot to look at it herself. In her grief at seeing where my mother died, she hadn’t thought to take pictures. When she and my uncle went back the next day, the sedan was gone, compacted and shipped out for recycling.

Having photographic evidence to look at would be monumental.

“Umm.” Sybil chews on her lower lip. “I’m not sure you want to get involved in that.” She tips her head from side to side. “It might not be the legalist of the legal pathways to obtain information, and could also be the reason my well-being was threatened.”

That has my brows lifting. “Now you absolutely have to tell me.”

I may not fully trust the woman sleeping under my roof, but that doesn’t mean I want anything bad to happen to her. For the time being, Sybil’s safety is my responsibility. And I can’t keep her safe if I don’t know what’s going on.

Sybil runs both palms down the front of her thighs. “It’s not really easy to explain to someone who doesn’t understand how certain things work.”

Is she calling me a dumbass? Because it kinda seems like she’s calling me a dumbass.

“You might be surprised how much I understand.” I round the edge of the island, standing beside her chair. Grabbing the backrest, I brace my other hand on the counter, caging her in. “Explain.”

Sybil’s tongue flicks out to wet her lower lip, likely because nerves have her mouth dry. “Well, there are certain areas of the internet that are inaccessible to most people. If a person were to figure out how to get to those places, you would be shocked how much they could find.”

I tip my head, taking in the woman before me in all her blonde-haired, bright-eyed, hot pink toenailed glory. And now that I’m really thinking about it, she reminds me of someone else I know. “Are you a hacker?”

“I’m not one to put labels on things,” Sybil hedges. “Technically, I have a degree in business administration, so I’m whatever that makes me.”

“I don’t give a shit what your degree is in.” I did a week ago, when I thought she was going to help me run the warehouse, but now that seems pretty fucking irrelevant. “I want to know if you are capable of hacking into private systems and accessing the dark web.”

Sybil gives me a tight, squinty-eyed smile. “Maybe?”

I’m not sure if I’m thrilled or terrified. If she genuinely is a hacker, there’s no telling what this woman knows. Certainly more than enough to be able to tell me exactly what I want to hear. To know which buttons to push to get me to let my guard down. On the other hand, if what she says is true, Sybil could be indispensable in helping me find out what really happened to my mother.

And possibly her father.

It also means she very well could have come across sensitive information someone will do anything to keep from getting out.

My mind is racing, struggling to organize everything she’s said and all it could mean. “Is this why you thought those shots were aimed at you?”

Sybil gives me a tiny, silent nod.

“Fuck.” Pulling air into my lungs, I take a step back, running both hands through my hair. “What in the hell am I supposed to do with you now?”