All The Lies (Lies & Truths Duet #1) by Rina Kent

Every day I spend at college, I discover the atrocities the old me did. Even if I want to change, I can’t possibly undo what I did in the past.

Or can I?

Redemption is so hard when you don’t know where or how to start.

With a deep breath, I follow Izzy to the kitchen. The vast area is filled with stainless steel appliances and white marble.

“Must be a bitch to clean all this white,” I tell Izzy as she busies herself behind the counter.

“Tell me about it.” She pauses. “I mean, I’m fine with it.”

“You don’t have to watch what you say, Izzy. I swear nothing will get back to Alex.” I make a motion of zipping my mouth, locking it, and tossing the imaginary key out the window.

Her kind eyes crinkle on the sides with a smile. “It’s like you’re an entirely new person.”

“A better one?” My tone holds so much hope, it’s pathetic.

She nods. “Well, yes. You’re more vocal, and less…”

“Snobby,” I finish for her. “I know. I kind of figured that out.”

She smiles awkwardly, and we silently agree to let the subject go.

We get to work. Izzy prepares the dough and speaks about Jason and the NFL draft. It’s their dream coming true.

My heart warms at how proud she is of him, but also at the sacrifices she’s made to get him here. When her husband died, leaving Izzy with a toddler, she moved from the south to escape her conservative family after they tried to force her into marrying a man ‘to take care of her’. She worked several jobs until she got to Alex’s house.

“Jason is lucky to have a mother like you,” I tell her as I shape the cookie dough with her.

“I’m lucky to have him as my son.” She grins.

“Izzy?” I don’t meet her eyes as I ask. “Since you’ve been here for a long time, have you ever met my mom?”

She shakes her head in my peripheral vision. “When I came to work here, your dad was your only parent.”

“Then have you ever heard anything about her?”

“I think she died during childbirth? That’s what I heard from the servants around here.”

That’s the only information I know.

My hands falter around the dough, trembling. I even killed my own damn mother.

“What is wrong with me?” I murmur, not meaning to say it aloud.

“Hey.” Izzy pats my hand with an affectionate expression. “It wasn’t your fault. No one’s birth is wrong.”

I smile a little. Considering my bitchy nature, I doubt I was ever good to Izzy, so I’m beyond thankful she’s trying to cheer me on.

“What about Alex’s wife?”

Her features fall and she seems in deep thought, as if choosing her words carefully. “She died in an accident when Asher was about ten.”

Oh.

On some level, Asher and I share a tragedy. The only difference is, I didn’t know my mother, while he did.

Wait…

If I’ve never met my mother, how come I keep having these bursts of memories about her? She used to tell me things, and I remember them.

“Asher and Arianna were devastated.”

“Who’s Arianna?”

Izzy freezes as if she realized what she uttered is taboo. “Uh…forget about it.”

“No, tell me. Please?” I soften my expression. “I feel so lost already. Don’t hide other things from me.”

“Asher’s younger sister. One year younger, to be exact.”

I didn’t know Asher has a sister. There are no pictures or photo albums in this house.

“How come I’ve never met her?” I smile a little. “Does she also go to school abroad?

Her brows furrow as she closes the oven. “She…she passed away.”

My heart thunders in my throat and nausea assaults me. Asher lost a sister? “How? When?”

She opens her mouth to reply but then commotion barges into the kitchen. Asher, Sebastian, and Owen enter, in the middle of an animated conversation.

Asher and Sebastian smile at something Owen says.

I dig my fingers into the dough as my gaze gets lost in Asher’s face. The ease behind his features—it’s the type of smile he never shows me.

All I get are glares and the silent treatment.

Sure enough, when his eyes land on mine, his smile falls, replaced by a calculating streak.

I try not to think about how I look. Flour covers my hands and some of my face as I stand behind the counter, wearing an apron.

“Is this the apocalypse?” Owen slides onto a stool in front of me. “Are you…”

“Baking?” Sebastian finishes for him as he snatches a cookie from the plate. He smells it as if making sure it’s not plastic.

My attention remains on Asher. While Owen and Sebastian sit, flipping the cookies and goofing around, he stands there with a hand in his pocket.

His face is neutral, but I see something more now. I see someone who lost a sibling. For some reason, that type of loss rattles me more than it should.

I’m an only child so I shouldn’t feel the loss of a sibling, but somehow, I do.

I open my mouth even though I don’t even know what I want to tell him. I just want to say something…anything.

He swats Owen’s hand, making him drop the cookie before it’s halfway to his mouth.