Page 80 of Finding Noah

Except for now, as I walked into Wayward Correctional Facility. Checking in and getting past security easily after being on Levi Stratton's approved list of visitors for the last ten years, after Dad had introduced us shortly after my sixteenth birthday.

This was the first time I'd come alone and requested private visitation with the man who'd taken the fall for Soldier’s mother, Diane Mason's murder after Seth forced her to overdose. Levi had been guilty of many crimes, but he'd allowed the cops to slap the cuffs on him for something he hadn't done … to protect Seth, to save him.

God, they were all just trying to save someone, weren't they?

Even Seth, it would seem.

When the guard led me into the private meeting room—holding nothing but a vending machine, a table, and two chairs situated across from each other—Levi was already waiting, his wrists chained to the table.

He looked up at me curiously but said nothing as the guard told me to knock on the door if I was ready to leave before our allotted time was up.

“Thanks, man,” I said, taking a seat across from my distant cousin.

He left the room, locking the door behind him. Leaving us alone for the first time … ever.

Levi looked through the door window, as if searching for the person who came to visit every other week for years now.

“Dad's not coming today,” I informed him.

The wiry man faced me with an inquisitive, raised brow. “Little boy's sneaking around, huh?”

“I, uh … I wanted to ask you a couple of questions. If you don’t mind,” I said, feeling awkward despite having spent time with him before.

But this was different. Dad wasn't leading the conversation. He wasn't inserting me when he felt it was appropriate. He wasn't working to protect me from the old criminal.

“Well, Officer, let me ask you a question first,” Levi said, folding his arms on the table and tipping his head. “Does the big guy know you're here?”

He meant Dad, of course, but he'd never call Soldier that here. To him, Seth was my one and only father.

“Dad can't know about this meeting,” I replied, feeling dirty the moment the words left my mouth.

Levi seemed intrigued by this. “Keeping secrets, eh? Why's that, huh? What are you hiding?”

I dropped my gaze and sucked in a deep breath of stale air. “I'm not … hiding anything, per se. I just wanted to talk to you, ask you questions, about, um …” I brushed a fallen strand of hair off my forehead, fighting my tongue to utter the words.

But Levi was kinder than I'd pegged him to be, and he didn't make me say it. “You have questions about your old man.”

I nodded.

“You wanna know about where you came from.”

“Yeah,” I admitted.

He blew out a heavy breath and leaned back in his chair, nodding slowly as he swung his eyes toward the floor. Grief hung heavily in the air, and I reminded myself that, while Seth had been the persistent villain in my story, he'd also been a person of importance to Levi. They'd been cousins, best friends. For whatever it was worth, they'd loved each other, and I could be empathetic toward his pain.

I stood up and dug into my pocket for my wallet as I walked over to the vending machine. “You want something?”

He glanced at me, hesitated, then nodded. “I'd appreciate it.”

“Coffee?”

“Sounds good, yeah.”

I slid a five-dollar bill into the machine, punched a few numbers, and grabbed a couple of coffees and candy bars. I had no delusions of grandeur here. I knew the coffee from the machine tasted worse than drinking the dregs from the bottom of the pot at the station. But it was a distraction, and it was a gesture, and for those purposes, it'd do just fine.

I put a cup and one of the candy bars in front of Levi, and he nodded.

“Thanks, kiddo.”