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But all along, it was Julie trying to manipulate me.
I feel sick.
“Well, I have no idea what shit I’ve interrupted, but, unless it’s important… I’d like to know about how the dynamics shift occurred. We all felt it, but nobody has approached the pack yet,” Iris says, glancing between us all with a hesitant look.
“There’s nothing more to say,” Ben says with a shrug. “Our parents are toxic and not fit to run the pack. That’s nothing new. I’ve got a few bits of information to chase down, so I’d say this little meeting has been a success.” He nods at his parents mockingly. “Thanks for the help, guys. It’s good to know you’ve got some worth.”
He shoves his chair back, and I flinch at the sound. The screechy noise makes Phoebe cry, and I immediately turn away from the table as I lift her out of the carrier.
“Shh,” I soothe as the room quietens. I cuddle her in close, and Seb bends down to grab her nappy bag.
“Come,” he says, taking my hand and leading me out of the kitchen. Iris and Topher immediately get into it, as their sister starts demanding answers to the questions she’s asking, but as Seb leads me up the stairs, the chatter fades away.
“Are you okay?” I ask, as Seb all but drags me down the corridor. It’s quite a narrow corridor, with Seb and I not being able to walk side-by-side, and all of the doors we pass are closed, except the bathroom, which is at the end.
He doesn’t reply as he opens the third door on the left and practically shoves me inside. My eyes widen as I take in the bedroom. He closes the door behind us and nods to Phoebe.
“May I?” His voice is quiet, hesitant, even.
I nod and hand her over to him. He moves towards the bed and gently lays her down. She gives a soft whine, but he places his hand on her chest and growls softly as he uses his free hand to unpack the nappy bag.
This bedroom has the colour theme of dark grey, and it’s very sleek. There’s a big board with photos on them, and I edge closer to see who is on them.
There’s a bunch of the quads in various stages of their lives. One of them is of the four of them at a wedding—Iris’s, I think, based on the groom—and I pull it down off the board, not sure what I’m seeing.
“Seb, love, when was this photo taken?” I ask, not looking away from a familiar woman in the background. My four men are standing in front of a random table, grinning at the camera. Behind them is a large table with a couple of familiar faces on it.
“Bring it here,” he says as Phoebe starts to cry. I walk over and wait until he’s soothed my daughter before showing him the image. “Talia and Iris’s weddings. They had them on the same day. It was awful.”
“I’m sure. But when was it?”
“It was nearly eleven years ago now?”
I frown, looking at that woman once more, my eyes narrowing. “What date?”
He gently places Phoebe over his shoulder, kissing her temple, and looks at me. I can see the concern etched into his face, but I can’t voice this aloud.
“May.”
“What date?” My tone is more urgent now as tears prick at my eyes.
He shakes his head, shrugging. “Turn it over.”
I do and see the date scrawled out in feminine writing. It’s not one I recognise, sadly, but the date is devastating.
“What’s wrong?” he demands, reaching for the photo once more. I pull it out of his grasp and turn it back over so I can see her face once again.
“I don’t know how this is possible,” I whisper.
“How is what possible?” His tone is frantic, and I’m not sure if it’s currently him, Kane, or a combination of them both.
“Who is this here?” I ask, pointing to another woman who is sitting at the same table. She’s got bright blonde hair, bright grey eyes, and is chatting with the woman sitting next to her with a soft smile on her face.
The thing is… I recognise them both, and I’ve got the feeling I now know exactly who the blonde is.
But it’s not possible.
Because as far as I’m aware, one of these women is alive… and the other is dead.
