Chapter Twenty Four

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Stepping back from the dozen cupcakes, I give a huff of approval, "Beautiful."

"And it only took 3 hours." Dad's exaggerated, pained smile earns a laugh from me.

Dad's cupcakes do look good. Mine, on the other hand, look all sorts of jank. The frosting is a mess, but the sprinkles do it a bit more justice.

"Payment is another cupcake." I demand, holding a hand out for our barter.

And sure enough, he places one in the center of my palm accordingly.

He picks one for himself, peeling the cover and holding it in the air, "Cheers."

I giggle as we gently bump cupcakes, littering the hardwood floor with just a few sprinkles, "Cheers."

"Mmm, this is some good stuff if I do say so myself." He says through a bite of red velvet.

I hum in agreement, taking my time to enjoy the frosting. I'm not sure what he does to get it this good, but he needs to leave me with the recipe.

We both eat silently, leaned against opposite sides of the granite countertops and facing one another.

Our joy seems to mellow out into a somber silence, and I can just feel the energy in the kitchen shift to a more serious tone.

I also feel I should mention how I'd broken things off with Ethan, but I'm hesitant.

Is it relevant anymore or would it give him peace of mind?

Does my need to tell him revolve more around settling his nerves or mine?

These questions remain unanswered, and I refuse to think much more on it before blurting my thoughts.

"I ended it." Setting down my cupcake and clearing my throat, I wipe my hands free of sugary debris, "Between me and Mr. Halloway."

Dad mirrors my actions, setting his treat aside and crossing his arms.

"Halloway." He repeats, as if he was caught off guard by the name. It seems like he shakes the concern off before brushing his chin thoughtfully, "Good, I'm very proud of you, Paige. I understand how hard it must have been, but I'm happy that you did it."

I lean into the side hug he steps forward to give, embracing the relief that floods my entire nervous system. He removed a weight off my shoulders that I hadn't known I was carrying. Actually, I definitely knew I was holding that weight. I just didn't expect this to be what booted it from my island.

"Are you sure it's not Hallows?" Dad asks, a bit cautiously and stepping away with a furrowed brow.

"Um, I'm pretty sure." I confirm, not too sure with myself at this point. He could go by Hallows but I've never heard it spoken from his or anyone else's mouth.

"Hm, okay." His words are just as unsure as mine, and maybe a bit more cautious than before.

I'm a bit caught off guard by the odd question, and curiosity gets the best of me. "Why?"

He still looks like he's processing some heavy duty thoughts, so I wait patiently as he gives his chin another thoughtful stroke and frowns.

"Well, your friend told me his name was Hallows and, uh, I did a bit of digging and I might have confronted the wrong fellow." He admits, still thoughtful but I catch the hint of guilt in his face.

The sentence has a lot to absorb, though.

First off, what friend told him what? And he confronted someone? Who he thought was Ethan? Oh, boy, things just got messy.

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