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“WHO?” I screamed at him when he remained silent. There was an apology in his eyes but that wasn’t fucking enough, was it? “Who killed my mom?”

“It was…” He closed his eyes. “It’s complicated. I knew what the ramifications would be. I’ve known since the beginning, but I swear to you now that if I’d known I could have gotten justice for her, I’d have fought for that, Aoife. I’d have fought for the truth to come out, but there was no chance of that.”

“How do you know?” I ground out, well aware that I was in his face which was no easy feat seeing as he was so much taller than me.

“Because… it was Lena.”

He said those fateful words on a sigh.

On a shaky breath.

On an exhalation so heartfelt that I knew it came from his soul.

Because that was goddamn confession for you, wasn’t it?

Good for the fucking soul.

“Lena? Lena, the same…” I couldn’t get my words together because as much as they’d liberated him, they’d imprisoned me.

I thought about my son who was currently with Lena, the woman who’d held me a few hours ago, the woman who’d become a surrogate mother to me—never replacing mine but helping me.

Guiding me.

When I’d had issues with breastfeeding, it was Lena I’d gone to—not Google.

When Jake wouldn’t sleep, when I’d tried everything to make him settle for the night, Lena was who I’d asked for tips.

“You let me—” My throat choked. “You let our son—”

He stared down at the ground like he knew what I was about to say without me having to finish the sentence. “I did. I know.” His shoulders slumped deeper, but even the sight of my husband like this, on the path to breaking, didn’t stop the rage that surged to the surface once more when he rasped, “I’ll go—”

“No. You fucking won’t,” I snarled, grabbing his arm. “What happened? Why—” I shook my head. There was nowhy. Unless… “Was Lena drunk? Is that why she drove off? Why wouldn’t she just stop? If she’d have stopped—” I sucked in a breath as the world began spiraling out of control beneath my feet. “Maybe Mom would have survived!”

“I read the medical reports, Aoife,” Finn murmured regretfully. “She hit her head on the way down. That injury waswhat led to her death.”

“I’m the one who made the decision to turn off her life support, Finn. Don’t talk to me about what happened.” My mouth trembled as I stared at him, pleading with my eyes. “Make some sense out of this for me. Why didn’t she go to the cops?”

“It’s like something out of a damn spy movie, Aoife. I can’t make sense out of the nonsensical.”

He reached out, but before his hand could connect with my shoulder, I pulled back. I ignored his flinch, just hissed, “Explain, and stop talking cryptically.”

“I’m going to tell you what I know,” he rumbled. “That’s all I can do.”

It wasn’t. There were so many things he could do,could have doneover the years, but I didn’t say that.

I needed answers.

I needed to understand.

“Hit me with it,” I whispered.

“You have an uncle, sweetheart. On your mom’s side.”

My mouth gaped. “What? I don’t! Mom was an only child!”

“She wasn’t. I don’t know what happened, but Conor looked into it. A man named Eamonn Keegan is your uncle.”

“Eamonn Keegan?” I tried to rack my brain for a memory of that name, but I didn’t remember Mom ever mentioning it. It rang a bell, just not because I’d heard her say it. “Why would she keep that a secret from me?”

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