Page 87 of City of Liars

The hell with it. If I died like this, at least I’d go a happy man. “I’m fine,” I said, pulling her close. My arms banded around her back, like if I didn’t hang on to her, she’d disappear. “Just thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you with my filthy mouth, as soon as I get you inside.”

Her laugh traveled from her into me, shaking us both, until I stopped it by sealing my lips over hers. Her hands tangled in my hair, tugging me closer, and her mouth tasted like chocolate and honey. I told myself to hold still, to let her lead the way, but when she gave a little moan of pleasure, my resolution went out the window. My hands came up to cup her face, and I took control of the kiss, deepening it, tasting, stroking.

I wanted her, sure, like I always did. But I also wanted more: to protect her, to spend every day with her, to be the only man who ever made her make that sound again.

It didn’t matter that it was freezing, that I could barely feel the shape of her body beneath her coat, that the twinkly lights had somehow shorted out and ruined my big romantic moment. I didn’t give a shit about any of it. All I cared about was Liv.

Now that I had her back, I never wanted to let her go.

54

Liv

Theo, Grandma Ella, and I sat around her dining room table, staring at my laptop’s screen. Susi’s results had come back a couple of days before, and Will had uploaded them to Ancestry. Now, all we had to do was find the courage to open this email.

My hand went to the pendant around my neck, as it so often did these days. It had become a touchstone, a way for me to center myself in times of stress. And, as so often happened when I did that, Theo’s gaze softened, as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

I wanted to tell him that I was the lucky one. Over the past few weeks, when things had been so rocky with my parents, he’d stood by me just like he promised. He’d picked up Chloe when I had to work late and had dinner waiting when I got home, my “hand me the tea towel of oppression” apron around his waist and a streak of sauce on his cheek. I wanted to tell him that he’d finally made my kitchen a home, just like I’d always dreamed of. That I was grateful for him, every day. But instead, I drew a deep breath. “Ready?” I said.

Grandma Ella nodded, and Theo’s hand tightened on mine. I clicked and braced myself for a revelation, but all the email said was, “Your results are in!” with a link. Taking an even tighter grip on Theo’s hand, I clicked through to Ancestry’s site, and then to “Your DNA.”

The room went silent. I could hear the three of us breathing, and in the kitchen, the sound of Chloe’s laughter as Ruth distracted her with a baking adventure. But here, where Theo, my grandma, and I sat, time slowed, the air wavering as my vision blurred.

I blinked once, then again. But the image was still there.

It was a pie chart, labeled ‘Ethnicity Estimate,’ almost entirely a bright, vibrant green. And to the right of it were the words: 99.7% European Jewish.

“Oh my god,” I said, just as Theo managed a choked, “Holy mother.”

My hand shook on the trackpad as I clicked on the tab that read, ‘DNA matches.’ And there it was, under ‘Close Family’: Susi Dressler, sister. Fifty percent shared DNA.

I worried that my grandmother would be upset. That she’d argue with the results or reject them, in turn rejecting Theo and his family. But though tears ran down her wrinkled cheeks, her eyes were filled with wonder. “Oh,” she said, her voice soft, incredulous. “Oh, my.”

“I can’t believe it. I mean, I do, but …” Theo’s voice caught. “My grandma,” he said, swiping at his eyes. “I have to tell my grandma. But in person, right? I should—I have to—” For an instant, his expression lit with joy. But then it darkened. “Ah, shit. My mother…now she’ll really go crazy with this lawsuit. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

I went to pull him close, to tell him we would figure it out. But Grandma Ella got there first. She held him and stroked his hair, rocking him the way she’d rocked me when I was little, and after a moment, his arms came up, returning the embrace. “Sweetheart, it doesn’t matter. Thank you,” she whispered through her tears. “Thank you both.”

Theo’s eyes met mine, filled with raw, open vulnerability, and it occurred to me that maybe this was the first time a maternal figure had held him this way—to take care of him, to protect him, rather than the other way around. A sob escaped my throat, then another.

The noises from the kitchen ceased, and footsteps pounded down the hall. Chloe appeared in the doorway with Ruth right behind her, her mouth ringed with crumbs and her eyes wide with worry. “Mama?” she said, her eyes roving from me to Theo to Grandma Ella and back again. “What’s the matter?”

I went to her and hugged her tight, small and sturdy and mine. “Nothing, baby,” I told her, holding Theo’s gaze over her shoulder. “Everything’s right.”

55

Theo

When we’d opened that email and discovered the truth, we’d had a freaking moment. Ella had hugged me, for Christ’s sake. She’d thanked me, despite the implications for her family and the goddamn lawsuit hanging over all our heads. But here, in Will’s living room a week later, the usual Cold War had escalated into full-on hostilities.

My mother and Caiden were screaming—the former, because it was her M.O., and the latter, because it was time for his nap. Grandma Susi was weeping, Abby had given up on diplomacy and was mainlining popcorn, and Will was, as usual, trying to calm everyone down. I, in an on-brand move, was pacing and interjecting comments that weren’t helping one bit. But what the hell else was I supposed to do?

I’d gotten my hands on the police report my mother had read to me. She must’ve been wasted when she’d looked at it, because even though the numbers were smudged, I could clearly see that Lily had been reported missing on December 22nd, not December 21st. She’d vanished the same day Mystery Girl had shown up at St. Grace’s.

I’d shown the report to my grandmother, who had sobbed. Ever since I’d flown to New York to tell her the truth, she’d been crying. She assured me they were tears of happiness, but part of me worried her heart would give way from the stress before she got a chance to see her sister again.

Mom, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care about how the mounting tension might be affecting Grandma Susi. She stood by the window, glass in hand and her face getting redder by the second, ranting for the eleven-thousandth time about how the Carters were going to get what was coming to them when the truth came out. I glared at her, out of patience.

“You do realize,” I said, coming to a halt and sinking onto the piano bench, “that Liv and her grandmother are going to be here soon. She already called me from the airport. Could you at least try to pull yourself together and act like a decent human being?”