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I shift my gaze to the book nestled in his hands.“Does that one have a happy ending?”I ask, my heart heavy.If Moses Carlton and his daughters indeed died, thenHarmony of Threewill inevitably end in tragedy.
We can spin it though.I can pull a miracle.Greyson will come back to me, but there’ll always be that empty space in our hearts.The space that belongs to her.
His face lights up at the mention of his parents.“Sure.My parents are happily together, blessed with six children and a few grandkids.”
I swallow hard, a pang of longing hitting me.Not for the children, but the dream of growing old together.We never broached the topic of family.We were young, in love, and the rest seemed inconsequential.Our ballerina was working hard to overcome her childhood traumas ...She tried her best until her past snatched her and Greyson from me.
“So when can we request more information from Finn?”I press, eager to follow this lead.“He may be able to assist us in identifying who took over their estate and got a hold of the diary.Unless you think he won’t help us anymore.”
“I’m sure Finn will do it.It’s just a matter of asking Piper and not him.He does everything for her or their husband, Derek.”
His words hit home.Love compelled me to do anything for them.I used to hang the moon and the sun forGreyandher.
“But if they died, why publish this book?”I’m filling the kettle with water and rummaging through cupboards for the tea bags my friend Nydia gifted me a month ago.
“Someone found this diary and decided to capitalize by publishing it?They hired an editor to polish it up.Hence, why we can’t recognize her voice,” I say, trying to piece everything together, but we don’t have enough clues.“They probably didn’t know who it belonged to, but they changed the names to avoid any issues.”
“She was ten,” Greyson murmurs, his tone a world away.
“Huh?”I question, my attention returning to him.“What are we talking about?”
“Do you remember the day we met her?”His question is casual but fueled with nostalgic intensity.
I nod.The memory is vivid in my mind.I was almost fourteen, Grey had turned twelve the summer before we found her.
“You sought me out during your recess,” I say, pressing the power button to turn on the coffee maker.I need more caffeine to get through this without seeking the bottle of single malt.“An elusive melody had stuck itself in your mind, desperate to come to life.You needed to capture it before you lost it.”
He nods.“Out of everyone, you understood my music the best.”
His words hang in the air, heavy and poignant.I still do,but I keep those words locked away, nestled close to my heart.Maybe later we’ll unpack them and explore us, but only if he allows it.
“She was there, holed up away in the corner of the music room, hiding from everyone,” Greyson continues.“It was her favorite spot, away from the crowds and the scrutiny of her friends.She didn’t want anyone to learn that her mother didn’t give her lunch.”
“Fucking bitch,” I snarl, the anger against her mother resurging.“Had I grasped the depth of her negligence, I would’ve reported her to social services.”
After that day, the three of us began to eat in the music room.Grey and I would bring extra food from our homes to feed her.We tried our best to ensure that she wouldn’t go hungry.For a long time, we believed her mother was poor.
A smile tugs at Grey’s lips, sad yet fond.“From that moment, we knew.She was ours to care for and protect.”
I close my eyes briefly, trying to calm the storm of emotions.They were mine to protect.Throughout my career as an agent in The Organization, I’ve saved countless people, but when it came to them ...
“Don’t go there,” Grey cautions, his voice steady, but there’s a silent warning within the words.“If you want us to continue, you have to balance the memories.We have to take breaks, remembering the good times.Those when it was the three of us filled with hope and planning our future.”
I imagine her standing in the living room, watching over us.She’d probably be judging me.
Fuck, if she knew what happened after she ...she wouldn’t be happy.She would probably be demanding answers, asking why I let Greyson push me away.But the thing is that I was too broken to pull him out of the hell they dragged him to.
Once I was strong enough, I tried to make my way back to him, but it was too late.There’s something I learned: You can’t force people to love you.
But is it really too late?
“Remember our first kiss?”Greyson’s question surprises me, and all I can do is stare at him, waiting for his next words.“Something about this reminds me of it.She’s the one who instigated it.”
I smile.“She thought it was hot but very cute too.”
“Who knew meeting her would change our lives significantly?”Greyson says with a lost look in his eyes.
ChapterSeventeen
