The car remained deathly quiet on the trip back to Killian's but he held my hand like he always did. We pulled into his driveway and he hit the button for the garage.

"You okay?"

I turned. "I'm not sure."

"I'll let you out and we can go inside and talk."

We needed to talk. About many things. I'd spoken to Killian about my parents and sister. He listened, but had offered very little about his personal history. This was so wrong.

I followed him, my ...