I’d already guessed Lilly had been neglected growing up. Not because of what Ethan told me but from the clues she’s revealed since we started spending time together.
“Not even when your dad was alive?”
She shakes her head. “No. What I remember is that he and Nora were rarely home. And when they were, it wasn’t at the same time. Not that it made a difference. I was always invisible to both.” She sounds resigned, like being overlooked is normal. “I’m not trying to play the victim, but Ethan was my only real source of love. I used to wait anxiously for school breaks, but as he got older, he stopped coming home.”
She takes a sip of coffee.
“Tell me about your last parents,” she asks, shifting the focus. I know she’s doing it on purpose, but I don’t redirect—because I promised her a piece of me.
I dig through my memories. “Mom was the complete opposite of Nora in every way imaginable. She didn’t care at all about appearances. I remember she always wore light, flowy dresses—usually with a streak of colored hair. I think they were a bit hippie.” And suddenly, opening that door squeezes my chest with longing.
I don’t usually let the memories surface—I’m a practical man above all. I can’t bring them back, so what’s the point of clinging to a loss that can never be undone?
But Lilly seems to have become an expert in teaching me how to feel again.
“She was a children’s book illustrator and loved spending time with me. She had endless patience. At first, when they took me in, I wouldn’t speak”—I don’t explain the circumstances of the adoption—”but she never forced me. Slowly, I started to feel safe enough to relax. Despite all her kindness, though, I never managed to give her what she deserved.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was born to be a mother, but she couldn’t have biological kids. One time, I was upset and said something cruel—I told her she only took me in because she had no other choice, and she didn’t really love me. All she said was that she was the luckiest person in the world because she got to choose her little boy. I felt so ashamed that day.” The memory of how often I rejected her love makes me sick. “Only near the end did I start to grasp what they were offering me. But by then, I didn’t know how little time we had left together.”
She nods, listening closely, and I can tell she’s trying to form a mental picture of my mom. “And your dad?”
“He was the classic geek. Started a tech company in the garage with four college buddies. They were pioneers and quickly became young millionaires.” I remember it all, still feeling like I don’t deserve the inheritance. “They died in a car accident on a rainy day. Nothing to blame except bad weather and poor visibility. By the time they died, the company was worth millions.”
“How old were you when they passed?”
“Thirteen and a half. My legal guardian sent me to the same boarding school as Ethan. And the rest of the story you already know.”
“Kind of,” she says. “Because my brother isn’t exactly the most open person. But he said this trip—your most recent one—had something to do with your history. How’s that possible?”
I feel my jaw tighten as a voice inside warns me:
Walk away. There’s no chance this will end well.
She’s not for you.
Why drag this angel into your world of darkness?
But I know that if I stay silent now, I’ll hurt her. So I take the risk.
“One of the families that adopted me—the last one before my real parents . . . They weren’t good people.”
I see the horror on her face. Lilly’s young, but she’s smart—and she senses something terrible in my words. “I don’t know if I understand.”
“Some people would say it wasn’t really an adoption . . . It was a kidnapping.”
Chapter 41
The hand holding mine trembles, but it doesn't let go. “Please, go on.”
“They took children for reasons beyond just offering them a home,” I say, unable to go into detail. “What you need to know is that on that trip, I was helping rescue other kidnapped children. Kids in situations similar to what I went through.”
I leave out the fact that it was the same group that once held me captive. I don't want Lilly trying to dig up anything about them, just in case something goes wrong when I catch them. The less she knows, the safer she’ll be.
“You came from an orphanage, if I understood correctly.”
“Yes. And some of those kids were supposedly adopted but then disappeared off the authorities’ radar. Others were snatched from streets, parks, with their families never hearing from them again.”
