Noah must sense the shift in me, because she leans in, peering at the envelope. “Is that…?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. It’s from Laurel Everett.” She’s the only person who can answer my questions about the parts of my life I’ve been left to piece together with little to no information. I’ve tried to reach her for weeks. I left messages at Mountainview begging for five minutes of Laurel’s attention. Every time, I was told the same thing—novisitors. No calls. No exceptions. And now, without warning, this.
“You okay?” Noah’s features worry her face, her voice gentle, her hand still warm in mine.
I don’t answer right away because I’m not sure I am. There’s something about holding this envelope that makes all the questions I have ripple under my skin.Why did my parents lie to me?This woman knew me before I even knew myself, and she holds all the answers I’ve been chasing.
“I think,” I breathe out slowly, “I want to open it inside. With everyone.”
Noah nods, her expression unreadable but solid. “Okay.”
We head toward the house, boots crunching, the scent of woodsmoke curling through the air from the chimney top.
The moment we step through the front door, warmth rushes up to meet us. Familiarity eases the ache in my chest—roasting meat, cinnamon, a whisper of pine. Much like any other night, the house is alive with motion. The twins are bickering over something stupid. Kade crouches beside the fireplace, stoking the flame, while Sage trails behind him, placing candles on the mantel one at a time. Grandma Jo’s clanging around in the kitchen, humming something off-key as she bastes the roast and swats at anyone who dares lift a lid.
It smells like Christmas and feels like home, but I stand in the doorway and don’t move. Noah slips off her coat, brushes snow from her shoulders, then glances back at me. “I’m right here,” she offers her support.
I place a kiss on her forehead. “I love you.”
“Love you too, cowboy.”
Hearing our exchange, Kade straightens, and when he runs his gaze over my face, his brows furrow. “Everything okay?”
That draws the others’ attention. The noise quiets, laughter tapering off. Grandma Jo turns, towel slung over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing slightly when she catches the emotion brewing in the bone-deep seriousness I could never quite mask.
Lifting the envelope, I hold it up for everyone to see. “I got a letter.” My eyes find Sage’s, knowing she’s the one who’s going to be affected the most by my announcement. “It’s from Mountainview.”
Her hand flies to her chest as a gasp leaves her mouth. Thankfully, Kade is next to her. So it comes as no surprise when he wraps her in his arms and whispers something to her that only they can hear.
There’s a beat of stillness, then Jace’s voice, low. “Laurel?”
Pressing my lips together, I bob my head.
Grandma sets down the dish towel on the diningtable, her movements suddenly careful. “You gonna open it?”
I glance around the room—these people, this family. Every single one of them carried me through hell and out the other side. They’ve earned the truth as much as I have.
“I wanted you all here when I do.”
There’s a scraping of chairs. Plates and centerpieces are shifted aside to make room. Within seconds, the room reshapes around me. The twins take the right side, while Sage takes the seat next to me and Noah. Her arms rest against her growing belly as Kade stands behind her, hands on her shoulders. Finally, Grandma Jo sits at the head of the table, watching us like she always does, as if she already knows something none of us do. Noah’s hand finds my thigh, and she squeezes. “You ready?”
The envelope sits heavy in my palm, thicker than I expected, like it’s been waiting years to be opened. I glance around the table one more time. No one speaks. No one breathes. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.” And then, I tear it open.
Dear Rhett, or should I say Everett,
If you’ve come looking for me, then I assume you already know what Ridge never managed to say out loud—that he was yourfather. Or at least, the man who should have been.
I’d like to start by saying I received the messages you left with the staff, and they confirmed that you were standing at the edge of something that could change how you see yourself forever.
I want you to understand this before anything else… I don’t want visitors. I don’t want to sit across from you behind reinforced glass and watch understanding bloom in your eyes in real time. I don’t trust myself not to break even further. Not when you lived a life my son never had the chance to.
I fear that what I’m about to tell you won’t bring the comfort you’re searching for. Some truths don’t heal. They only explain the wound they caused. But that’s worth something, right?
I imagine you have questions. I imagine you have anger. I imagine you want names, timelines, and reasons. And I’ll give you what I can. The rest, well, that’s for you to decide.
You may share this letter with your family as you see fit. And you may choose how much of it you share with Sage, your half sister. I don’tknow how close the two of you are now or what she knows of the past. I only know that Ridge once told me he’d offered you the veterinary apprentice credits you needed for college, and I took that as proof that some part of him tried to do right by you, even when he failed in every other way.
A little too late, if you ask me…
