PROLOGUE
Twenty years ago
Denver sat in the front seat of the fancy car while the pretty lady drove through the small town, her nails a bright red against the white steering wheel. She’d said her name was Dr. Sylvia Daniels, she’d arrived at the boys home yesterday to meet him, and today she’d told him he had to go to get a physical. At least she hadn’t come in the room with him when the doctor had checked him out.
The front seat was too big for him. He was small enough he was supposed to sit in the backseat, but he didn’t want to argue with her.
“You’re turning into such a big boy at only eight years old.” She glanced at him, her eyes bluer than the ocean on television. “I know after speaking with you yesterday that you don’t have selective mutism. You can talk if you want, correct?”
He nodded. But he rarely wanted to talk. Why bother?
She smiled. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you yesterday that I’m sorry it took me so long to find you.”
It had been his first day at the boys home. He bit his lip. She sounded super smart, and she knew he could talk, so it’d be rude not to try. “You were lookin’ for me?”
She turned back to the road. “Yes.” Her grip tightened until her knuckles were as white as the leather. “From the second you disappeared.”
His stomach felt funny. Was that his fault? “I’m sorry.” Sometimes if he said he was sorry, even if he didn’t know why, he didn’t get hit. Though a lady like her wouldn’t hit as hard as his uncle, probably. “Really sorry.”
Her chin lifted, and her dark hair bounced down her shoulders. “None of this is your fault.”
Denver glanced out at the small stores on the quiet street. When the authorities had taken him out of school and driven him to the boys home, nobody had explained anything to him. “Um, where’s my uncle?”
The lady turned toward him. “Do you care?”
Denver lifted one shoulder. He didn’t like getting hit, but he needed family. That was an odd way for a grown-up to answer the question, too. He plucked at a string next to the hole in his jeans. Why was life so scary?
She sighed. “Landrey Mishna is not your uncle, and you don’t have to worry about him any longer. He kidnapped you. From me.”
Denver wiggled on the smooth seat, his heart leaping. “He’s not my uncle?” A heavy weight lifted from his shoulders. If the guy hadn’t been his uncle, then Denver wasn’t related to a total asshole. Denver had thought it was his fault his uncle always hit him, but maybe Landrey was just a bad guy. Maybe Denver didn’t have to turn out to be a bad guy, too, since they didn’t share blood. “He lied?”
“Yes.” The lady sniffed. “He was a soldier who worked for me, and he took you away when I had other plans for you. Apparently I made him angry when I stopped seeing him.”
Denver turned to face her. Who was she? What did she want from him? God, he wished he were bigger and could just get out of the car and run. Did that mean he wasn’t alone? His chest got heavy. “You know my family?”
She stiffened but didn’t turn. “I know everything about you.”
He swallowed and leaned toward her. His heart beat faster. “Do I have a dad?”
Now she turned, her face not telling him anything. “No.”
He crossed his arms. “Do I have a mom?” Maybe his mom needed him. She had to be lost, or she’d be with him.
Dr. Daniels stopped at a crosswalk. “You don’t have a mom. You’re quite alone, Denver.”
He didn’t have a mom? His shoulders fell. Yeah, figured. His eyes stung. If he had a mom, then he wouldn’t be alone. “Okay.”
Then Dr. Daniels turned and watched him as if they had all day. “Yesterday when I arrived, you were talking with Ryker and Heath. I figured the three of you would bond quickly. At least I hoped.”
The older boys had protected him from a bully, although he’d been giving it a good fight. “Um, Doctor? What should I call you, and what do you want with me?” She hadn’t explained anything the day before.
She swallowed and pressed her high heel on the gas pedal. “You may call me Sylvia. I’m a doctor who studies smart kids like you.”
He tilted his head to the side. Being quiet helped him to study people, and he somehow knew when they were lying. This lady was lying. She was a doctor, and she studied people, but that wasn’t her name. He’d noticed the hitch in her voice yesterday when he’d first met her. Why would she give him a fake name? If he called her on it, she might hit him. “You gonna study me?” he asked quietly.
Her mouth lost its firm line and she looked softer. She turned the car down a long dirt road toward a big white building. “Yes, I am. You, Ryker, and Heath are special.” Suddenly she reached over and grabbed his hand, enclosing it with her soft skin. “You are the most special of all, Denver. Someday I’ll tell you why.”
He blinked and looked around as she stopped the car. None of this made sense, but he didn’t have a choice in anything. He never had. Not really. “We’re back at the home.”
