I run through the diagnosis and treatment plan, forcing myself to stay professional even when his studied glare is unnerving.
When I finish, he nods slowly. "Interesting."
"What is?"
"That's the exact same conclusion I told Mother yesterday."
The words hang between us, and I stare at him blankly while my brain tries to process what he just said.
"You're the vet, aren't you?" I say, handing him the bag I now believe is his.
His smile is slow, almost apologetic. "I am."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"It was better this way." He straightens from the wall, his expression serious now. "I didn't want you second-guessing yourself or rewording your diagnosis because you were worried about offending me. I wanted your honest, unfiltered, professional opinion." He pauses, and something almost like respect crosses his features. "And truthfully? I wanted to see if another vet would reach the same conclusion I did. I'm competitive by nature."
"Are you sure that's all this was?" I ask skeptically.
His questioning, while cloaked in the guise of an easy conversation, felt more like digging. But digging for what? I don't see how any of those questions pertain to the merger, which is why I answered them.
Rohan's expression becomes more guarded, like he's weighing how much to tell me. "Let's just say my mother likes to be thorough when it comes to people who might be significant to our family's interests," he finally says.
"Significant? You're talking to the wrong Hale,” I say, assuming he’s referencing the merger.
"Am I?" He tilts his head, and there's something in his eyes that makes my stomach clench. "Tell me, Asha, does the name Daruka mean anything to you? Beyond my mother, I mean."
"Should it?"
"Can I show you something?" He's already moving toward the stable doors, not waiting for my answer.
Does the name Daruka mean anything to you?His words echo in my head, and I hesitate, but only a moment, until I match his pace stride for stride back to the house because I can't say no.
"When I saw you yesterday, I knew you looked familiar, but I couldn't place it." Rohan leads me toward a mahogany shelflined with framed photographs at the far end of what appears to be a private study. "And now I know why." He picks up an old photograph, his fingers careful on the worn frame. "I couldn't place it because the last time I saw you, you were small."
He holds it out to me. It's a framed picture of my family. I'm sitting on my mother's lap, maybe five years old, wearing a yellow dress I don't remember. My father sits beside us, but he's not looking at the camera. He's looking at my mother and me, his expression so full of love that my chest tightens. He's looking at us like we're his whole world.
The thought makes my heart pinch painfully. I don't remember this day, but I remember the feeling of being his everything. Like it was him and me against the world after we lost her. Somewhere along the line, that died. Somewhere between boarding school and summers spent anywhere but home, that look disappeared. It was replaced by distance, secrets, and a wall so high I stopped trying to scale it.
"How did you get this?" My voice comes out steady, even though my pulse is racing.
"So it is you?" Rohan moves closer, looking over my shoulder at the photo. "That's your mom and dad?"
"Yes." I force myself to meet his eyes, to keep my expression neutral even though my world is tilting sideways. "Now answer my question. How did you get this?"
"Your mother sent it to us." His voice is soft, almost gentle, and that somehow makes it worse.
The floor seems to shift beneath my feet. "My mother? When?"
"Around the time that photo was taken." He reaches out, his hand hovering over the frame, drawing my attention back to the image. Back to the family that no longer exists. "Asha, I don't know how else to say this, but your father is my uncle." He pauses, letting that sink in. "Our parents are twins."
The photograph slips in my grip, and I have to tighten my fingers to keep from dropping it.Twins.Which means Dar, Daruka, is my father's sister.
My head spins, though part of me isn't surprised. I've known for years my father was keeping secrets. I felt it in every deflection and every time I asked about family and got silence. I just didn't realize the secret was this big.
Why would anyone assume their father had erased an entire family from existence? My mother's parents died when I was young, leaving only Aunt Melly and Hollis on her side. I've always known my father was adopted. I spent summers with Grandma and Grandpa Stone in Connecticut until they died. That was supposed to be it. All the family I had.
But my father has a twin sister. A whole birth family he never mentioned. I love my father. I love him so much it hurts. However, that man in the photo, looking at my mother and me like we were his entire world…that's just a memory. After she died, something changed or broke, and slowly, piece by piece, I started to wonder why he kept me away.
