AVA

All through the drive back home, my head rings with one statement, echoing like a curse: Ask him what happened the night she died. Nicklaus isn’t who you think he is.

The words won’t leave me. They claw at me, digging deeper with every passing second. And all I can picture is the night Nicklaus was so hesitant before he admitted he had a brother. That look in his eyes, that heavy tone. As if even then, he was holding something back. What is he hiding from me?

I pull into the garage, the car humming to silence. The same car Nicklaus had gifted me, now feeling like both...