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Jacey backed away. She seemed to be hanging on to composure by the thinnest thread. “Oh, he’s my father, all right. And thanks to your lies, I didn’t know that until today. ”
Mikaela felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. “I never told you?”
“No. ”
“Oh, Jacey …” Mikaela didn’t know what to say. What kind of woman had she become that she would do this to her daughter? “Jacey, I—”
The door swung open. Sarah bustled into the room, rosy-cheeked and out of breath. “Jacey, I was hoping to find you here. The receptionist just called. She saw Bret run out of the hospital. He wouldn’t stop—”
“Bret! Oh, my God. It’s my fault!” Jacey spun around the heavyset nurse and ran out of the room.
Mikaela looked helplessly at Sarah. “Who’s Bret?”
Sarah gave her a sad, knowing look. “Get your rest, honey. ”
Mikaela’s heart beat too fast. Any second, she expected one of the machines to sound an alarm. The room spun around her, making her sick and dizzy. She grabbed Sarah’s arm, yanked her so hard the nurse hit the bed rail. “Sarah … did you know me … before?”
“Of course. I hired you right out of nursing school. ”
Mikaela released Sarah and sank into the mound of pillows. These facts of her life were meaningless; she wanted the truth of it. “Was I a good person?”
Sarah gazed down at her, smiling softly. “You have the pure heart of an angel, Mikaela. You were—and are—a good person. Believe me. ”
She wanted to believe it, but she couldn’t. She’d lied to her daughter for all these years, and obviously she’d broken Liam’s heart. For the first time, she wondered if this amnesia was a gift from God. A momentary respite that allowed a sinner to feel like a saint.
Julian sat in the familiar cocoon of the limousine, staring at the reporters clustered beyond the smoked glass.
He’d really screwed up today. There was no way around that fact. He’d set the hounds on his own daughter. It hadn’t been broadcast yet, that footage from outside the high school, but he’d heard about it in excruciating detail, the way they’d caught her off guard and thrown questions at her.
How does it feel to be Julian True’s daughter? And the way they’d sniffed out the ugly truth: She doesn’t know.
Outside, he saw Liam push through the crowd of reporters.
Julian couldn’t help himself; he sank deeper into the seat, rubbing his tender jaw. The last person he wanted to talk to right now was Liam Campbell.
Julian was deeply ashamed of what he’d done. Usually when he screwed up, he paid for it. Literally. People who worked for him ran along in his wake, throwing money at anyone whose life or property had been damaged in a brush with Julian True.
Now, for once, he wanted to be a better man than that. He wanted to do the right thing.
He pulled his Ray Bans out of his pocket and slid them onto his face. Then, after running a comb through his tangled hair, he got out of the limo.
It was snowing. Again.
“He’s out!”
Reporters surged toward him, microphones at the ready. They looked as bad as he felt. This weather was too damned cold. He knew that if they were going to stand outside for a story, they’d rather be in Los Angeles, where the elements gave you cancer instead of frostbite.
He barely heard the questions hurled at him. Wordlessly, unsmiling, he pushed through the crowd, knowing they wouldn’t follow him into the hospital. They were like vampires—they had to be invited in.
He was halfway to Kayla’s room when he saw his daughter. She was in the waiting room, standing still as stone, with her back to him.
“Juliana. ” He remembered a second too late that it was the wrong name. “J. C. ”
Slowly she turned around. For a disorienting moment, the past slammed into the present. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her mouth was trembling. She looked exactly like Kayla on the day she left him. “Hi,” was all she said.
“I … was hoping we could talk. I know … you know the truth about me … about us. ”
“Not now. ” She took a step toward him, hugging herself. “My brother ran away. ”
