My eyes linger on her a moment longer. I wonder why I never noticed before—the shape of her nose, the color of her hair, the full pout of her lips, those beautiful almond-shaped eyes. She looks just like her sister—the very spitting image of Elle from ten years ago.
***
After my brothers leave, Beth and I clean up the kitchen while Mom reads to Hannah in the living room. Dad retreats to the den with a glass of iced tea and full control of the remote.
Once the girls head upstairs to Beth’s room, I make my way to the den to have the conversation I’ve been dreading all evening.
“What is it, son?” Dad asks, picking up on the tension written all over my face.
“I found Dani,” I say, the words sharp and heavy in the quiet room. There’s no easing into something like this.
“What?” Mom's eyes grow wide.
Dad straightens in his chair. “When? How?” His voice is low but urgent, like he’s bracing for a blow. “We gave up years ago. How is that even possible?”
I draw in a breath, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Her name is Elle Keaton now. But it's her. Dani. She's the girl we pulled off the street that day. The girl who left this mark on me.” I look at my arm, the words written over the scar:She’s all I have.
A stunned silence follows. Mom’s hand flies to her mouth. Dad just stares at me, eyes narrowing like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle that doesn’t want to fit.
“She’s been living next door,” I add, my voice low. “I found out tonight.”
“Is Dani the woman you’ve been dating?” Dad asks. “Or the roommate?”
“She's the woman I’ve been dating,” I clarify. “Her roommate’s name is Tina.”
“Oh my Lord,” Mom whispers. I can almost see the wheels in her mind turning, piecing together what’s been an impossible puzzle for our entire family for years.
“How did you find out?” Dad asks, wanting to get down to the crux of the matter. He’s a practical man—no frills, no BS. Just the facts. And if it’s a problem, how do we solve it?
“We were going to have dinner together,” I begin. “We were talking when she touched my arm and felt the scar underneath the tattoo. Then she realized my first name isn’t Cal—that it’s short for Callahan. Her brain took it from there. Before I knew it, she’d jumped off the couch and was looking at me like she was seeing me for the first time—like I was enemy number one. She was so angry, emotional, and hurt. There was nothing I could say to calm her down or make her listen.”
“Did you tell her we spent an entire year trying to see her at the group home before she ran away?” Mom asks, trying to make sense of it all.
“She didn’t give me a chance to explain,” I point out. “She wanted no part of anything I had to say. Shecompletely shut down and ran home. Then collapsed on the ground halfway between my property and hers. Tina came out and told me to back off. I chose to walk away and give her some breathing room. And here I am.”
Dad stands to his feet. At fifty-five, he's still a formidable force, and if you don't know him, you'd find him unapproachable and intimidating. He's only a couple of inches shorter than me and my brothers, but there's no question, he never put up with any of our nonsense or excuses growing up.
"We have to tell Beth,” he says, leaving no room for debate.
“We can talk to her in the morning,” Mom agrees.
“I’d like to be here,” I add. “She’s going to have questions. She’ll want to meet her. This is going to be a lot for her to digest. Do you think she’s ready?”
“She’s ready,” Mom says. “She knows we wanted to adopt her too. She knows we never forgot, and she knows we tried to find her over the years.”
"Not hard enough," I mutter.
“None of this is your fault,” Dad quickly adds.
"She changed her name," I murmur, the frustration inside me growing into a painful knot. "How were we supposed to know we should've been looking for Elle Keaton?"
I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair, desperation clawing at me.
“It’ll be okay, Son,” Dad says quietly, but even his voice carries a flicker of uncertainty. “It will all work out.”
I swallow hard. “I hope you’re right, Dad.” What I don’t say is the truth that burns in my chest, I’ve fallen in love with Elle. The thought of her not understanding what happened, not accepting the truth, not forgiving me—that terrifies me.
Chapter 9
