When Monk ducked into the tent later, Kindra almost told him to go, but she didn’t want to hear what happened from Gar. She didn’t know if she could trust him.

“How was your talk with Oak?” Monk grinned and began cleaning the mess on the floor.

“What happened to Geoffrey?”

Monk’s grin faded and Kindra’s heart contracted.

“Who?”

“Geoffrey. We used to play with him when we were young. You, me, Liam, Chris and Andrew.”

“Oh. That Geoffrey.” Monk shrugged and kept his eyes on the bowls he was cleaning. “He died…do you need some tea?”

“No.” She hugged the cup to her chest. “When did he die?”

“A few summers back.”

“Eight?”

The bowls were clean, but Monk refused to look at her. When he spoke his voice was soft, devoid of his endless humor. “Yeah. I’d say it was about eight summers ago.”

Kindra shook her head slowly. A weight pressed on her chest, contracting her lungs so she couldn’t breathe. She’d been so upset over her father’s death she’d never stopped to wonder what happened to Geoffrey.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“And the other boy?” she said softly.

Monk didn’t reply or look at her.

“There were two boys,” she reminded him. “One died. The other lived.”

“Yes, he did,” Monk said. “Your father managed to save one of them, at least.”

“Who?”

“Kindra…” He finally looked at her. His face was tortured, as if the conversation physically hurt.

“Was it you? Chris? Andrew?” She looked at her wrists, which still throbbed a little. “Or Liam?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

Monk stared at her and her heart sank. He wouldn’t rat out his best friend. She shook her head again despite the pain. “Only one of you felt bad enough to help me train.”

“I was going to,” Monk said, “but he insisted.”

All the heartache of losing her father slammed back, compounded by the loss of Kaye, and now Gar. The last four summers of training had been a penance, nothing more. She knew now which was the real Gar, and it wasn’t the man she’d been falling in love with.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Monk sat on the edge of the cot. “We thought Liam was going to die, and then your father’s death would have been in vain. We were afraid if we told you, you would hurt him.”

“But…”

“We’d just lost Geoffrey, Chief Bear, your father, and so many others. We couldn’t lose Liam too. I couldn’t lose Liam too.”

Now she’d lost Liam. Gar. She’d lost her best friend because no one had told her the truth eight summers ago. He’d spent the last eight summers lying to her, and she could no longer trust him. “You can go,” she said.

Monk reached for her hand. “Kindra…”

“Please. I want to be alone right now.”

He patted her hand and stood. “Yell if you need something.”

She nodded and curled around Kaye’s blanket with her back to the door. It hurt her ribs, but the pain felt better than the pain in her heart.