Brooke tilts her head, studying the picture of Henry on the screen. “What blood type does Theo have?”
“O positive.”
She frowns at me. “Are you sure?”
“That’s what Henry said.”
“But that means…” She shakes her head. “I need a piece of paper.” She rifles through one of the gift baskets until she finds a pen and uses the back of a Get Well Soon card to sketch a rough table. She stares at it for a minute, chewing on the back of the pen. Finally, she looks at me and blows her overgrown crisis bangs out of her face. “Theo and Henry don’t have the same parents.”
Naomi’s eyes widen with shock.
“That can’t be right,” I say.
Brooke hands me her Punnett square. “It’s impossible for the same two people to have an AB-negative childandan O-positive child.”
I glance up at the TV, where the news anchors are still singing Henry’s praises, two days before his brother’s coronation. A chill runs up my spine.
I turn to the royal expert in the room. “Theo told me there were cheating rumors in his parents’ marriage. Do you know about that?” I ask Naomi.
“Of course. There are cheating rumors in every royal marriage.”
“Was it his mom?”
She slowly nods. “There were whispers that right after the wedding, the Queen had an affair with one of her advisers. Do you think…”
She trails off as we turn our attention to the news, which has finally switched from the story about Henry to a quick coronation countdown update.
“Holy shit,” Brooke says, echoing my thoughts perfectly. She looks at me, her eyebrows sky-high. “I don’t think your boyfriend is the rightful heir to the throne.”
My entire world flips upside down.
Naomi grips my hand. “What are you going to do?”
I turn to Brooke. “How did you know law school was the right choice?”
She shrugs. “I just felt it in my gut.”
“There wasn’t a sign?”
She must hear something desperate in my voice, because she studies me for a long moment. “Wanting a signisyour sign, Wren.”
Well, that was not as helpful as I hoped it would be. I give her two sarcastic thumbs-up.
Before I have a chance to process any of this, it’s time forthem to leave for the airport. I spend so long hugging everyone goodbye that the Uber honks three times.
“Don’t forget to call,” Mom says. (Once she realized I wasn’t getting on the plane with her, she bought me a new phone.)
“I won’t,” I promise.
“And come home soon.”
“I will.”
“Remember that your dad and I love you,” she says as Brooke drags her toward the door.
I follow them to the front porch. “I know.”
“And call me if you need a divorce lawyer. I know a good one.” She kisses me on the head.
