Noah's Adventure - 9. The Word That Changed Everything

Grandma stood frozen in the doorway, her face pale.
“What do you mean you talked to Tristan?” she asked, her voice low and careful.

“He talks to me,” little Brody replied with a shrug. “He said I’m his brudder.”

That single word — brudder — hit Grandma like a punch to the gut. Who knew one word could do that?

“Mattie. Brody. We need to talk. Now,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. Then she clarified, “Adult Brody and little Brody.”

They slipped out of the room quickly, leaving behind a silence thick enough to choke on.

“Why did brudder trigger Grandma?” I finally asked Uncle Nathan, who suddenly looked like he wished he were anywhere else.

“It’s…” he stammered, then chuckled nervously. “It’s what your great-grandfather used to say when he was little. He couldn’t pronounce brother, so it stuck. Became kind of his nickname.”

Grandpa stood by the counter, stirring his coffee like he could change reality if he just kept going. The clinking spoon was the only sound for a moment. I studied his face, trying to understand why everyone was so spooked.
Kids have imaginary friends all the time — why was this one so different?

Uncles Nathan, Luca, and Grandpa kept exchanging quiet, uneasy looks.

Finally, Grandpa cleared his throat. “Why don’t you and the boys go to the Town Center… or maybe Annapolis Mall for a while.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Uncle Nathan said, catching the hint. “Since your truck’s blocked in by Matt, take our Yukon.” He tossed me the keys.

“Indoor mall or outdoor?” I asked the triplets.
They looked at each other and answered in perfect unison, “Indoor mall.”

“Annapolis it is,” I said with a grin.

Uncle Luca handed the boys some extra cash while I ran upstairs for my wallet and some graduation money. I was double-checking I had everything when Grandpa’s voice startled me.

“Noah.”

I spun around. “Grandpa—you scared the crap out of me.”

“Didn’t mean to,” he said with a chuckle, handing me a pair of credit cards. “Use these for anything you want. Save your graduation money.”

They felt heavier than normal — thicker. Then I realized both had my name embossed on them.
One was a black AmEx. The other, a silver Visa.

“Grandpa, why is my name on these?” I asked, blinking.

“They’re yours,” he said, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Tied to an account your grandmother and I manage. You’re an authorized user now.”

“Thank you… for trusting me,” I said softly, still processing.

“Of course. You’re a good kid, Noah.”

We stood in quiet understanding for a moment before heading downstairs — and that’s when I froze again. Several unfamiliar men were standing in the living room.

“Noah,” Uncle Ted said, stepping out of the kitchen, “these gentlemen are your bodyguards. Don’t worry — they won’t hover, but they’ll always be within range. Think of them as… subtle.”

“Mr. Jacobs,” said a tall, broad-shouldered man with frat-boy charm, extending a hand. “Agent Bryce Carter.”

“Agent Carter,” I repeated, shaking his hand.

“Please — just Bryce,” he said with an easy smile. “The less formal we are in public, the better.”

He gestured to the others. “These are Agents Stephanie Lawson, Aaron Hopkins, and Casey Martins.”

I nodded politely, trying not to stare. They looked like the kind of people who’d fit right in at a luxury Annapolis brunch — casual, confident, and clearly dangerous.

“Agent Carter is your lead,” Uncle Ted continued. “He’ll coordinate if multiple agents are assigned.”

Bryce checked his phone briefly. “For your safety, if you see any member of your maternal family, turn your hat around. That’ll be our signal to close in.”

Stephanie added, “If that happens, leave the area immediately. If you can’t, swap hats with one of the triplets — it’ll help us keep visual contact.”

Right on cue, the triplets walked in wearing different team caps:
I had my Washington Commanders hat, Shiloh sported a Ravens one, Shane had the Nationals, and Shawn the Orioles.

“We’re tracking the Yukon, and your phone,” Bryce continued. “Even if it’s turned off.”

Apparently my face gave away how unsettling that was, because my uncles burst out laughing.

“It doesn’t track your apps,” Uncle Ted said between laughs.

“Actually,” Agent Martins interjected politely, “it does monitor for certain emergency keywords. That data is only accessed if there’s a credible threat.”

Now it was Uncle Ted’s turn to look horrified. The whole room erupted in laughter again.

“Relax,” Martins added with a smirk. “Only your sister, Mr. Jacobs, and the Michaels law office have access.”

“My sister, huh?” Uncle Ted said, smirking like a man already plotting payback. “Noted.”

We finally got out of the house. I stuck to the main roads, merging onto Route 50 east toward Annapolis. The trip was easy — music low, small talk flowing. It almost felt normal.

Almost.

The mall was busy with lunchtime crowds, so we wandered first, ducking into Dick’s House of Sport. The triplets browsed soccer gear while I mostly admired the sales guys. Shiloh kept close — close enough that I could feel his presence like static.

We grabbed lunch at Chick-fil-A, because, come on — it’s Chick-fil-A.
As we ate, I mentioned, “My grandma told me she used to hang out here back in the day.”

“They had malls back then?” Shane asked, dead serious.

“She’s not that old,” I laughed. “She said it used to be some tiny thing owned by Montgomery Wards — whatever that was.”

We all cracked up so hard we got stares.

After a few more stores, we crossed over to the Town Center. Shiloh and I wandered into Sephora while the twins hit Target. He was testing colognes when a voice called my name.

“Noah!”

I turned. “Caleb! Hey, man — didn’t expect to see you here.”

He laughed awkwardly and gestured toward his brother Jesse and Jesse’s boyfriend Cody, both mid-makeover at the counter. “Mom made me chaperone them. More like… keep them alive.”

“I get that,” I said, exchanging a grin with Shiloh. “Oh — Caleb, this is Shiloh. He’s visiting with my uncles.”

Their eyes met — and something changed in the air.

For a heartbeat, everything went still.
No words. Just that charged silence where you know there’s history you don’t understand.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Shiloh said too quickly.

“Caleb?” I pressed.

He swallowed hard. “Everything’s fine. I need to go.”
And just like that, he turned and walked out fast.

“That was… weird,” I said, watching him disappear. “Do you two know each other?”

Shiloh hesitated — his lips parting, then closing again. He never answered.

I turned, about to ask again, and instinctively reached for his hand.

The moment our fingers touched, a voice that wasn’t mine — wasn’t anyone’s around us — echoed inside my skull:

“It’s time you learned the family secret.”

And then, like a film reel tearing open behind my eyes, someone else’s memories came pouring in.