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“Something for Aunt Catherine.”

She was annoyed when Ophelia walked right back into Catherine’s room ahead of her instead of leaving. And then she was further annoyed when Ophelia said, “Ravinia has something you’ve been looking for.”

“How did you know?” Ravinia wanted to scream, but she swallowed the words, knowing full well there were other forces at play in her family.

“What is it?” Catherine asked. She was seated at her desk, not lying in bed, which was a good sign.

For an answer, Ravinia handed over the papers, giving Ophelia a hard look when it appeared she might try to grab some for herself. Ravinia had waited all day to share this moment with her aunt, and now she had to deal with Ophelia.

But then Catherine suddenly handed the top page to Ophelia, anyway, saying, “The adoptive families! Mary had these on Echo.” Then, to Ravinia, “How did you get these?”

“Maybe this’ll lead us to Declan Jr.,” Ophelia said.

Ophelia swept out of the room, but Ravinia felt her comment like a blow. She shouldn’t be surprised that she wasn’t the only one Aunt Catherine had confided in, but it bothered her deeply. One more reason to go.

“Good,” Aunt Catherine said, glancing down at the other pages, which looked as if they were lined notebook paper, their holes tied together with orange thread. “She didn’t have a journal on the island,” Catherine mused. “She put it down on paper. How did you get this, Ravinia?” She looked up at her, demanding an answer.

“He gave it to me.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“How . . .” Catherine swallowed, then asked sharply, “What did he look like?”

“I don’t know. Dark hair. Blue eyes . . . I guess. Handsome,” she said reluctantly.

“His hair was dark? Not any shade of blond?”

“He’s not one of us, is he?” Ravinia asked on a gasp.

“Was he on the island? Was he the one who found these pages on the island?” Catherine demanded.

“I guess so. He’s the one that built the fire.”

“He said that? He admitted it?”

“Pretty much.”

“Ravinia, what exactly did he say?”

“He said he was a friend, and that sometimes you just had to burn things.”

Catherine seemed to melt into the chair, as if all her energy had been expended. “He burned them,” she said in wonder. “He took the bones, and he burned them.”

“Are you sure? Why would he do that? Why would anyone do that?”

To her surprise, her aunt actually smiled. “It’s how you kill the Hydra. Burn it, so it doesn’t grow another head.”

“Who is he?” Ravinia said. “Is he some relative?”

“I think he’s your brother Silas. Mary’s last son, like you’re her last daughter . . .” A cloud marred her expression. “Unless she had more children I’m unaware of.”

“On the island? How?”

Her gaze had dropped to the tied pages. “Never mind. I’m just borrowing trouble.”

“So, he’s my brother Silas?” Ravinia repeated. “And he’s not like Declan . . . ?”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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