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“When did that get there?” I asked as I stood and dusted myself off.
“It came with the house so it’s always been here… it’s where they keep all important documents.”
Tapping in the code, Aurelia lifted herself onto her feet and rifled through it, finding a yellow folder before settling back into her chair again with a sigh.
“Here,” she said, holding it out to me.
With shaking hands, I took the folder and opened it.
Right on top was a custody petition with both Alexei and Maxim’s name at the top.
It was full of legal jargon that would probably take someone like Penelope to decipher, but it was obvious that it was for them to be able to take me back to the United States. The dates lined up to when I was in the hospital recovering from cracked ribs, a broken wrist, and a concussion after the accident.
I’d never questioned how the dads managed to bring me back to the United States without the entire Irish government coming after them, but now realized that I should have.
Underneath the petition was a thick stack of papers, each one nearly the same aside from the date at the top.
Wire transfers of a thousand euros on the first of each month dating all the way back to the month right after the accident.
“They didn’t want you to be stuck there while they waged a legal battle that they probably wouldn’t have won,” Aurelia told me quietly, almost pleading for me to understand. “So, they went to your dad and asked what it would take for him to sign over temporary guardianship and not contest it in court.”
“And that cost was a thousand euros apparently,” I said dryly, my mind racing back to what I could remember from those first few years in Minnesota. “Where did they even get the money for this?”
While we didn’t struggle, the dads were by no means rich. They’d given up a lot to raise the three of us on their own—even waiting to coach hockey again until we were all grown up.
“Inheritance from their parents mostly—though I know there were a few tight times when you and Brynn were in high school.”
Shaking my head, like it could dislodge the memory of the past hour if I did it hard enough, I finally looked her in the eyes again. “This is so fucked, Aurelia, why didn’t you tell me?”
Aurelia’s sigh was heavy as she reached for my hand and pulled me closer like she always did when she was trying to soothe my upsets. “You were a kid who’d just lost her mom and her dad was too busy at the bottom of a pint to take care of her. You had enough on your plate trying to grow and move past it that they didn’t want you to have to feel guilty because of the payments.”
“And why didn’t you tell me after I became an adult? Why keep the payments going?”
“I don’t know why they’re still paying, Ceer, believe me. I thought it stopped after you turned eighteen. You’d have to ask the dads about it.” Aurelia’s voice was almost pleading as she tried to get me to understand.
But I couldn’t.
Pulling my hand out of hers, I tucked the folder under my arm. “I need to go.”
“Ciara,” Aurelia called as I skirted around her chair and made for the door. “Don’t run away from me, come back here and talk.”
I wanted to yell and scream at her. To take out all of the boiling rage that seemed to be bubbling just underneath my skin from being lied to—even if it was for my own good. But one look down at the swell of her belly checked my anger. Even as angry with her as I was, I didn’t want anything to happen to her or my little niece that rested just underneath her heart… so I ignored her instead.
Nausea rolled through me and I tamped down on it hard as I tried to calm my mind which was racing with all of the information that had just been thrust in my direction.
Aurelia called my name again, but I barely heard it as I finally made it to the front door.
Then I felt them down the bond. My mates were trying to comfort me as their concern rippled out at me. Slamming my mental walls up I sucked in a deep shuddering breath and yanked the front door open and stepped out into the rain.
I needed to figure all of this out on my own before I looped them into my misery.
Chapter thirty-five
“She says she’s not feeling well and is going to sleep at her place alone tonight,” Wiz said, reading the text message out loud to us as we all stood in the kitchen of the apartment.
“What do you think is going on?” Artie was pacing back and forth, his agitation almost sour on my tongue as he worried for the female alpha that had gone MIA in the last couple of hours. “She was fine earlier and then it felt awful.”
We’d just stepped inside of the apartment when the most revolting emotions came from Ciara’s end of the bond. Nausea, misery, and another emotion I couldn’t quite place. Then she’d abruptly cut us off, leaving nothing but a dark connection for us to commiserate over.
