Faking It With The Hockey Star

Justin’s POV

Nobody spoke. After Grandma’s voice cut through the heavy room, the silence somehow became even louder. I looked around the living room, taking in every tense face. Dad wouldn’t meet my eyes. Diane looked irritated, but underneath that polished annoyance, there was something else creeping through. Unease.

Grandma remained standing in the center of the room. Her posture was relaxed—too relaxed. She wasn’t rushing, and she wasn’t angry. She looked like someone who had already won the battle and simply hadn’t told us why yet.

Then she turned her eyes toward Harper. "Before we continue, I need to thank someone."

Harper blinked, caught completely off guard. "...Me?"

Grandma smiled warmly at her. "Yes."

My eyebrows pulled together as I looked between them. Harper looked just as confused as I felt.

Grandma folded her hands together calmly. "A few days ago, Harper came over to spend the afternoon with me."

Harper offered a polite, gentle smile. "I did."

"And while I was making tea, you wandered around the house."

Harper immediately looked embarrassed, shifting slightly in her seat. "I’m really sorry about that, Margaret. I hope I didn’t overstep."

"You didn’t." Grandma shook her head firmly. "In fact, I’m grateful you did."

I frowned, the confusion deepening in my chest. Grateful?

Harper looked completely lost. "I don’t understand."

Grandma’s smile softened into something tender and aching. "You accidentally found my daughter’s office."

My heart stopped right in my chest. Mom’s office.

I slowly turned my head toward Harper. She lowered her eyes, looking down at her hands. "I didn’t mean to. I was just looking around and opened the wrong door."

Questions flooded my mind in an instant. She had gone inside? Why hadn’t she mentioned it to me? Did she find something in there? Did she see the things Mom had left behind?

Grandma answered the silent question hanging in the air. "Harper, I hope you know I’m not blaming you. If anything, you gave me courage." Her voice grew quieter, delicate with old grief. "Since my daughter passed away, I’ve never had the strength to walk into that room. I couldn’t. Every memory hurt too much." She swallowed hard before continuing. "But after realizing someone else had stepped inside, I finally walked through that door myself."

Nobody moved. Nobody even seemed to breathe.

Grandma slowly turned her attention toward my father. "Richard. Guess what I found."

Dad finally looked up, and he froze. It wasn’t obvious, and most people in the room probably wouldn’t have caught it, but I did. His shoulders locked up stiffly, and his jaw clenched tight. He already knew. Somehow, he already knew what was coming.

Grandma reached into the dark leather bag resting beside her chair. Slowly and deliberately, she removed an old notebook. It was bound in worn brown leather, the corners frayed with age and the elastic strap barely hanging on.

I recognized it instantly. It was Mom’s diary. I hadn’t seen it since I was a little kid.

"I found my daughter’s diary," Grandma said quietly.

The room became perfectly still. Grandma gently rested the worn notebook on the glass surface of the coffee table.

"I’ve spent the last few nights reading it," she said, her eyes lifting to settle squarely on Dad. "I’m honestly amazed. Amazed that you managed to fool all of us for so many years."

Dad cleared his throat, trying to regain his posture. "I don’t know what you think you’ve read—"

Grandma lifted one hand, cutting him off instantly. "Don’t. Not yet. This is my turn." She glanced at me gently. "Easy, child. I’ll explain everything."

I nodded slowly, though every answer only seemed to create ten more questions in my head.

Then, almost instinctively, I turned my eyes toward Diane. That was when I noticed the real shift. Her air of icy confidence was completely gone. She wasn’t leaning back anymore; she was sitting perfectly upright, her long fingers gripping the edge of the sofa cushions. She hadn’t blinked in what felt like forever. She looked terrified.

Why? What was written in that diary?

Grandma followed my gaze over to Diane, and then she looked toward the hallway entrance. "Lilian."

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slow footsteps echoed from deeper inside the house. Everyone turned toward the entryway as an older woman stepped into the living room. Gray streaks ran through her dark hair now, and her posture wasn’t as straight as I remembered, but I would recognize her anywhere.

"Lilian..." The name escaped my mouth before I even realized I was speaking.

She looked directly at me, her eyes softening with warmth. "Hello, Justin."

My chest tightened with sudden nostalgia. She used to pack my school lunches when I was small. She used to sneak me chocolate chip cookies whenever Mom wasn’t looking. Then, one day, she was simply gone, and I had never gotten the chance to say goodbye.

Grandma stepped closer to her. "Lilian worked for our family for many years. She saw this house change. She saw things most of us didn’t." Grandma looked around the room at the pale faces staring back. "I searched for her for a long time. When I finally found her, she refused to speak."

Lilian lowered her head, her voice quiet. "I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want any trouble."

Grandma nodded gently. "I know. That’s why I asked you to come here today."

Lilian’s breathing became uneven and shallow. She looked at Dad, then at Diane, and finally dropped her eyes to the floor. "I... I can’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Grandma let out a slow, patient sigh. "I was hoping you wouldn’t say that." She glanced toward the front window and calmly adjusted the tailored sleeve of her jacket. "Oh, I almost forgot."

Everyone turned their full attention back to her. She smiled politely at the room.

"I should probably let everyone know that this house has been surrounded by police officers for the last twenty minutes."

The room froze instantly.

Diane shot to her feet, her chair scraping against the floor. "What?"

Grandma didn’t even look at her. "No one is leaving this house until somebody finally tells the truth."

My heart slammed wildly against my ribs. I looked from Grandma, to Dad, to Diane, to Lilian, and finally back to the worn leather diary lying quietly on the coffee table.

For the first time in my life, I realized I knew almost nothing about my own family.

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