I nod slowly. “I guess I didn’t think about telling any of you about it because I didn’t really think she would ever find anything, but now …”
I move over to the bed and perch on the edge of the mattress.
“That detective you spoke to, she was investigating my mother’s disappearance.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” He moves to kneel in front of me.
“I don’t remember much about my mom,” I admit. “Because she died when I was young. I was told she got sick, I think. My memories are fuzzy. But the problem with the Ivan Hamilton case is that my mom’s body hasn’t been found, and there’s no evidence of a murder.”
“Shit. Robin, I’m so sorry.”
I shrug, but even thinking about it hollows me out inside.
My mother lost her life and the man responsible may never pay for her death.
“If that detective called, it’s probably because she found a possible location to search for a body. That’s the main reason she would have to talk to me.”
There’s no other way to take that information she dropped.
It’s what I’ve been waiting for, but now that I’ve got it …
I don’t know how to feel.
“It’s okay,” I murmur. “I’m okay.”
I can hear myself saying those words, but it doesn’t feel like me.
Jay puts his arms around me and hugs me, his head against my belly.
Even his touch feels muted, like I’m not really sitting here with him.
My mother is dead. I’ve known that for a long, long time.
Since I was three, or four years old.
So, why does it feel like I’ve only just found out she died?
Chapter One Hundred-Seventeen
Jay
It’s heart-breaking to see Robin crumble under this news about her mother. She seems so frozen as she tells me, her tone empty. I hug her and help her get ready for bed. She’s in a daze as I strip out of my clothing and get under the sheets beside her, and she barely reacts as I wrap my arms around her rigid body.
A few seconds like that, and the dam breaks.
She weeps against my chest, crying her heart out.
The tears don’t stop, and her breathing becomes ragged as she gets them all out.
I whisper reassuringly while I hold her, part of me wishing Harper was awake right now.
Our Omega could calm her a lot faster than I can, but maybe that’s not what she needs.
Her tears are so relentless. It’s as if she’s spent her whole life bottling up every last emotion.
Now that they’re coming out, there’s nothing that can stop them.
She sobs, and hiccups, and the tears continue to flow.
