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My thoughts volley between understanding and losing it, but I’m too tired to rage. Exhaustion still racks my body. I need more time to lick my proverbial wounds.

“May I hug you?” Tobias inquires, reminding me I’m not alone and I need to be more vigilant. I hesitate, wanting to rebuff one of the men responsible for my current state, but I eventually nod, the part of me that wants to hug my grandfather winning over. Barely a breath passes before he has me wrapped in his arms.

Tobias Bradford’s hug is strong and comforting. “I’ve dreamt of this day since the day you were born,” he murmurs into my hair, his spiced woodsy scent filling my nose as I pull from his embrace.

His statement is like a bucket of ice water being dumped over my head, quickly reminding me of their betrayal.

“So, you all knew we were out there, and you left my sister and brothers to what? Just hope for the best?” I accuse, needing to lash out. The rational side of me knows it’s bigger than just us, and the Bradfords are in danger. My grandparents did what was necessary for their family to survive. I get it. That doesn’t mean I can’t be pissed about the fallout of their actions.

“Is everything okay out here,” a voice booms.

I turn in the direction of the sound to a tall, muscular man with chestnut brown hair and his face set into a scowl.

Tobias looks up and says, “Yes, Conner. Everything is fine.” Then he gazes at me. “Ariah, this is Conner, one of our heads of security.”

I study the broody man standing in the entryway. He scrutinizes me a moment longer before whirling around and leaving.

“Let’s go into the kitchen and get you something to eat while we talk,” Dad suggests, recapturing my attention. I grumble but follow anyway.

I’m starving. Maybe a little food will help me see a little less red every time an image of my time with the assholes who hurt me flits through my mind.

By the time my grandfather speaks again, I’ve eaten, and we’re all sitting around the dining room table.

“I won’t pretend to know the hurt and anger you’re feeling right now,” he begins, staring at me with his matching silver eyes, ensuring he has my attention. “But I know the pain of losing years with my family and sacrificing firsts and sitting on the sideline while your child and grandchild have to fight.”

There’s pain etched into his every word. I deflate. My rage dwindles to a simmer. As much as I want to take all of my frustrations out on them, I recognize how they were also used.

“Why didn’t any of you fight back? Why did you let the Selection continue once you were at the helm?” I probe, asking the question plaguing me since I discovered the Bradfords’ role in this clusterfuck.

Tobias sighs. “Because deals were made long before I was born, and going back on the agreement would lead to greater problems than we’ve already faced.”

“What could possibly be worse than finding out your mother was a backstabbing, manipulative, power-hungry bitch?” I growl.

The tightness in both their faces conveys the severity is greater than Elise’s betrayal.

“We can’t say anything else, Ry,” my father laments, and just like that, the fuse lights, and my anger is renewed.

“Can’t or won’t?” I challenge. My frustration with this entire situation churns in my gut, causing my breakfast to sit heavily in my stomach and threatening to empty on the table in front of us.

Rubbing at the creases in his forehead, my father replies, “You know there are things we can’t tell you. At least not yet.”

“You need to sing a different song because you’re stuck on repeat,” I snap.

Always the damn smoke and mirrors.

Tobias speaks this time. “Please try to understand. There are things we can’t share before the proper time, or it will do more harm. Just be patient a little longer.”

“I’m tired of all the secrets,” I huff, crossing my arms. I think I’ve been more than patient with the trickles of information I’ve been receiving, much of which has come after I’ve already been dealt a massive blow.

“Ry.” My dad starts, but I cut him off.

“No, Dad! You both need to give me something. Anything. I’ve followed every rule. Showed up to every stupid event and allowed myself to be humiliated for the sake of some dead men’s instructions. I deserve answers,” I seethe, meeting both of their eyes.

“That’s all we can say for now,” Dad replies, both of them having the decency to at least look remorseful, but it isn’t enough.

Sick of their evasion tactics, I stand from the table. “Well, until you have something you can tell me, I’m going back upstairs.”

I exit the kitchen, ignoring my father’s attempts to gain my attention. I know I’m being childish, but I’m over all the secrets. If they won’t tell me what I need to know, I’m going to figure it out myself. It’s time for Edgewood to leave its archaic bullshit where it belongs, in the past.

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