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CHAPTERONE
KANE
“Penelope is your daughter.”
What?
How?
JoJo’s words swirled in my head. I could hardly focus as I stared at the girl who looked so much like me it was frightening.
For the first time in my life, my legs felt as if they might give way.
Daughter?
There was no denying she was.
But . . . I hadn’t . . . I couldn’t . . .
A mass of thoughts I couldn’t quite grasp tore through my mind. None of it made sense. The bombshell had me reeling as if I’d been hit in the face with a metal pipe.
And the girl—my . . . daughter—appeared as shell-shocked as I was.
Her lips were parted. She blinked like she’d been in the dark for days and was now blinded with light. And her face was as ashen as I was certain mine was.
I couldn’t look away.
Our gazes were locked in a tractor beam of confusion.
I couldn’t speak.
The jumble of words that refused to become coherent sentences stayed as they were in my brain.
Daughter.
Daughter.
Penelope is your daughter.
She cut her eyes to JoJo, but quickly looked away as if it were too painful. Her face pinched like she’d been seriously wounded.
She took one step back.
Then another.
And another.
Her gaze begged me for answers I didn’t have. Pleaded for me to say something to make this right.
And all I could do was stare helplessly back.
In a flash of long hair, she whirled and bolted away.
“Penelope.” JoJo had found her voice, though she didn’t sound like herself. The word was ripped from her, every bit of pain dousing each syllable.
She chased after Penelope, leaving nothing but silence in their wake.
Was this what it was like when a bomb detonated?
