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I give another snort.

“Also, you’re the only one who can eat ice cream faster than me.”

I chuckle. That’s true, though. But only if it’s vanilla with loads of chocolate syrup.

“Overall, you’re a brilliant, passionate woman,” Grae sums it up. “One I’ve had the pleasure of watching grow up. And nothing is going to change that.”

I smile. Grae might have thrown a few insults there, but what he said just now – it lessens the ache in my heart. As always, Grae knows just what to say to make me feel better.

I reach for his hand. “Thank you.”

He touches my cheek. “I don’t care if you’re a Chandler or not. You’ll always be my little sister. Got it?”

And I know he means that. Grae is always going to be watching out for me.

Why did I think he’d stop doing it? Why did I think that just because I found out we didn’t share the same blood that we would no longer be a family?

I’m so stupid. My blood or my name doesn’t define who I am or who I get to care about. Maybe my life was supposed to be different, but that doesn’t make me any less deserving of the one I got or make any of my memories and experiences any less real. I’m still me.

“Got it,” I tell Grae.

I’m not going to think of the fact that I’m adopted as a tragedy, because it’s not. It’s just a fact. It doesn’t mean anything.

I still wish I knew who my real parents are, though. Just so I know if they’re alive or dead. Just to fill in the blanks.

“Where’s Cain?” Grae asks me suddenly. “I thought he’d be with you. He is treating you well, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” I answer. “I wanted to be alone.”

“Does he know?”

“Yeah.”

He knew before I did. God knows how long. He really has exceptional sleuthing skills.

Exceptional sleuthing skills.

I lift my head as a realization sinks in. Cain found out about my adoption and I’m sure he didn’t find out from my mother, which means someone else knows about it. That someone could know who my real parents are. Maybe Cain already does.

I slap my forehead. Why didn’t I ask him?

“Is something wrong?” Grae asks with a puzzled look.

I place my purse over my shoulder and stand up. “I have to go.”

I need to go back to the hotel and talk to Cain.

~

Cain isn’t in the hotel room, though. I’m about to search for the note he promised to leave but I get distracted by the package on the bed. A wooden box with gold edges and a gold lock. It has an envelope attached to it.

I open it and find an old-fashioned golden key inside. I read the note.

Alyssa,

Your father kept this in his closet. I haven’t had the courage to open it, but maybe you can find something in it that will put your mind to rest.

Love, Mom

I look at the box closely and see the initials N and C carved into the surface.

Nicholas Chandler’s box of secrets. His Pandora’s Box. I wonder what it holds for me.

I gaze at the key in my hand and draw a deep breath. Just when I’m about to unlock the box, I hear a beep from the door. I think it’s Cain so I slip the key inside my pocket and run to meet him – but as the door opens, a grey-eyed stranger stands in front of me.

Before I can say anything, I feel a prick on my arm.

Then nothing.

Chapter Sixteen

Cain

Nothing.

Just like in Clearweather Cottage, I’ve found nothing in Tom Bowles’ house so far. No people, mafiosi or otherwise. No sign of being occupied for at least the past twenty years, maybe not since Allie was kidnapped and brought here. No guns. No drugs. No bodies. No blood. No evidence of kidnapping or any other crime.

Well, at least, in Clearweather Cottage, I found Charlie. Here, I doubt I’m going to find anyone, least of all Sergio Bianchi.

Good. I was afraid that if I brought Allie here, they’d meet and then he’d tell her that she was his daughter. I wouldn’t be able to kill him, because Allie would stand in the way, and I wouldn’t be able to protect Allie if she decided to go with him.

I wasn’t going to lose someone I promised to protect. Not again.

That’s why I came here alone, why I stopped Allie from coming here even if it meant telling her the news that she was adopted. The distraction worked. Allie went off to talk to her mother. Probably, by now, she already knows the truth just as she deserves to. Maybe her brothers know it now, too. I have a feeling they’ll accept her just the same. Maybe she’ll even be able to get along with the woman she considered her mother now. She won’t have to please her, and Suzette Chandler won’t have to pretend she loves her. They couldn’t be mother and daughter, because they’re not, but maybe they can be friends.

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