Son.
Shit. No, no,no. They wouldn’t have told this poor family I’m their son without confirming it, right? Like with scientific evidence that stands up in a court?
Another voice—a man—calls after her. “Val!”
The woman pushes Detective Hall aside, and behind her Agent Grant moves out of the way, looking like this is all getting away from him. When the woman glares at her, Dr. Zapata looks frustrated but steps aside.
She’s a tall, skinny white woman with wavy brown hair wearing maroon scrubs and a long gray cardigan. And she has eyes the same shade as mine.
Nathaniel Beaumont’s mother. And from the way she’s looking at me, they definitely didn’t tell her that I’m not Nathaniel.
Five
Nathaniel’s mom—though everyone has been calling me Nate, so maybe that’s how his parents referred to him—looks as if she’s seeing, well, someone pretending to be her son who’s been missing for over nine years.
She stares at me from the doorway, mouth agape and tears welling in her eyes.
This is so fucked up. It never should have gotten this far. I was hoping they would try to confirm my identity before contacting Nate’s parents. Then I’d have a chance to make a run for it before the blood test came back. Maybe in the middle of the night while the nurse on duty is tired and distracted. But here’s Nate’s family, expecting to see him and finding an imposter instead. Guilt churns my stomach.
I open my mouth to apologize, but I can’t make my voice work.
“Nate” is all Nate’s mother says. “Oh my...” She breaks into sobs and crosses the room so fast it takes my breath away.
Wait.
She called me Nate.
She can’t seriously think I’m him? This isn’t right. She squeezes me tight, sobbing, and I can’t help it. I’m surprised to find that I’m crying, too.
Why am I crying? And why am I hugging her back so tightly? I don’t even know this woman. Maybe being alone for the past eight months has gotten to me more than I thought it could. I don’t even know when the last time I got a hug was. And if I think even harder, I don’t remembereverbeing hugged by my mom or dad.
She lets go and holds me at arm’s length. Tears spill from my eyes as sobs rack my body.
Nate’s mom wipes away my tears with her thumbs and looks into my eyes. “It’s okay, pumpkin. It’s okay.”
Movement draws my eyes to the doorway and I see a tall, portly man with salt-and-pepper hair, a dark mustache, and thick eyebrows. He has broad shoulders and a belly that sticks out against a blue shirt and dark suit.
This must be Nate’s dad. He doesn’t look at me the way his wife does. He’s more guarded. Because in his heart he knows something isn’t right about all this. Maybe he’s the pessimist in their relationship. Or maybe he decided long ago that Nate was dead while his wife held on to hope.
Hope that I’m probably going to destroy.
Someone else steps around him. It’s a young man, probably a few years older than me. But the family resemblance is there. He’s tall and broad, like his father beside him, but he’s lean like the mother, who still holds me tight. The young man—Nate’s brother, I assume—wears a fashionable button-down tucked into slacks and gives me the clearest look of suspicion out of everyone in the family.
Dr. Zapata is talking quietly to the other doctor, Detective Hall,and Agent Grant. Nate’s father still watches me. Finally Dr. Zapata turns back to us.
“We’ll give you all some time together.” Her eyes lock on me. “But Detective Hall and Agent Grant will have to talk with you some more after. I’ll be here, too.” She looks at Nate’s parents, ignoring the brother. “The two of you are more than welcome to stay, but I would advise you to step outside in case there’s anything—”
“Absolutely not,” Nate’s mom says. She grips my hand and looks into my eyes as she brushes my hair away from them. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“Okay.” Dr. Zapata ushers everyone else outside and Nate’s brother shuts the door behind her. Then he crosses his arms and leans against the wall, regarding me with what I can only imagine is suspicion.
Nate’s mom sits down on the side of the bed. Her hands brush my cheeks, and she looks me up and down. “Oh, my baby. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“Valencia.” Nate’s father says her name like a warning.
She sighs and shakes her head. “Sorry. Dr. Zapata says we shouldn’t press you without her here. I just... oh!” She pulls me into a tight hug. “We’ve missed you so much. Are you... are you okay?”
Nate’s dad steps forward and puts a gentle hand on Valencia Beaumont’s shoulder. “Hon, you heard—”
