The Unloved by John Saul

the way his Aunt Marguerite had looked at him when she’d found him in the library yesterday. Her face had been white and her hair messed up, and for just a second she had looked to Jeff exactly like his grandmother.
    But it was when she looked right at him that he felt goosebumps all over his body. It was just the way his grandmother had looked at him when she was coming down the stairs in the chair the first day he had been at Sea Oaks.
    Like she wasn’t sure who he was, and didn’t care.
    And she didn’t care, Jeff had known instantly, because for some reason—even though she didn’t even know him—his grandmother hated him.
    And yesterday, for just a split second, that was how his Aunt Marguerite had looked at him.
    Just like she hated him.
    He felt a chill run down his back, and quickly looked around, as if his aunt had been able to read his mind just now. But she was nowhere to be seen, so he nudged Toby with his elbow. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go down to the beach.” With Toby right behind him, he began threading his way through the crowd once more, relieved that he didn’t run into his aunt.
    Marguerite stood under the largest of the oak trees, the faces of the people she had known all her life melding together until she found herself uncertain of exactly whom she was talking to. And then a tall figure emerged from the throng, and suddenly Will Hempstead stood before her. Looming nearly a foot taller than Marguerite, he smiled gently down at her, his eyes filled with concern. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked, his voice dropping so that no one but Marguerite could hear him. “If there’s anything, Marguerite, anything at all, you just tell me.”
    Marguerite smiled wanly and shook her head. “But it’s sweet of you to offer, Will. After all these years, and afterwhat happened, well …” Her voice trailed up in embarrassment.
    “It’s all right,” Will assured her. “I’m a lot older now, and so are you, but nothing’s changed, Marguerite. I hope you know that.”
    Marguerite tipped her head up and met Will’s eyes. “But it
has
changed, Will. Everything’s changed, and nothing can ever be the way it was again.” She could see that Will was about to say something else—something she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear—and then she saw her brother a few yards away. “Kevin?” she called. “Kevin, come and say hello to Will Hempstead. You remember Will, don’t you?”
    Kevin excused himself from the group he was chatting with and strode over, his hand extended. “More likely that Will doesn’t remember me. I don’t think I’ve seen you since I was eight or ten years old.” He grasped Will’s hand firmly in his own. “What’re you up to these days?”
    “Law,” Will announced. “As in capturing, not prosecuting.”
    “Will’s the police chief,” Marguerite explained, and Kevin thought her voice was suddenly a little too bright. “Everybody says he’s got the right personality for the job, but I think they appointed him because he’s so big nobody would dare to fight him.”
    “And I think you tease just as much as you did when you were a girl,” Will Hempstead replied, but beamed at her words nonetheless. Then he turned his attention to Kevin. “Heard you were here. Lots of people are glad you’re back.”
    Kevin shrugged. “Well, it’s nice to feel welcome, but I’m afraid I won’t be staying long. In fact, I think about three more days and we have to head back north.”
    Hempstead looked surprised. “Not staying?” he asked. “Well, now, that’s not the way I heard it. Folks are saying you’re bringing the wife and kids and moving down here to stay. And if you’re not,” he added, “I’ve got to say I’m sorry.” He gave Kevin a broad wink. “I’ve seen that daughter of yours—prettiest girl we’ve had around here sinceMarguerite grew up. ’Course, she looks just like Marguerite, so I suppose you might say I’m a bit