“Which means we have to access that information before turning Terra over to law enforcement,” Sterling says. “We haveto know what our mother was protecting us from, or there will always be a guillotine over our heads?—”
“When Aunt Vivi died,” Valen interrupts, “the payments must have stopped, right? Is that what started all this?”
“Well,” I add, “and Miriam died. Her death would have afforded Terra a freedom she hadn’t had in years.”
“What are you thinking?” Grant asks.
My mind whirls with storylines and plot holes. “Miriam is the only one who was ever able to reason with Terra. If Vivi was able to keep Terra contained all these years, it would’ve only been possible with Miriam’s help.”
“Whatever Terra knows,” Sterling says, “it’s connected to the O’Connell’s, and it’s something that terrified our mother enough to break the law multiple times. But we’re forgetting something—Terra isn’t the only one with knowledge of the O’Connell family.”
The entire world narrows to a pinpoint, and I fear I might black out.
“What do you mean? Who else?” Valen asks. His furious energy saturates the room as though he’s electric, sending shockwaves into us all.
When I lift my gaze, I find everyone else staring at me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CLOVER
“Me?” I squeak like someone just stepped on a cat toy. “I don’t—” I shake my head so quickly my hair sticks to my lashes. “How would I know anything?”
“Your books,” Grant says cautiously. “The Vow series in particular. You wrote about vigilante justice. Your hero was…specific.”
“That was—I made that up. It’s fiction, Grant. None of it’s real. I would know, I wrote it. I sat for hours crafting that world. It’s not…I mean…”
“What are you saying?” Valen’s voice is deceptively calm, but I feel the abject rage permeating his every cell.
“Mom’s theory…” Chase steps forward, his jovial manner nowhere to be seen. “Was that you had knowledge of the inner dealings of your father’s work, at least on some level, and that you gained knowledge of how Terra corrupted it. She thought that’s the only way you could have such specific details.”
“How do you know this?” There’s a violence in Valen’s words now. “How long have you known, and why the fuck didn’t you say anything to me?”
“When mom got sick—” Chase’s voice cracks, and he shakes his head. “Her meds—they made her slip between past and present.”
“She asked him to read Clover’s books to her,” Sterling mutters.
“Details that he never shared until recently,” Grant barks.
“Oh, fuck off, Grant,” Chase fires back. “And were you so forthcoming with the information you unearthed? We all made mistakes.”
“I—I don’t understand.” But there’s something growing on a molecular level inside me. Something that’s bottling up the rage and the fear and the guilt I’ve carried my whole life and turning it into a force that can no longer be contained—an inner strength I’ve never known.
Roman steps closer, his expression blank as he silently orders everyone to get their shit together with a single narrowed gaze that hits each person before turning to me. “Clover, we think that Roots of Salvation did begin as a sanctuary for rescued women and children. Those types of organizations operate in secret, even today.”
“But Terra got too greedy and wanted more power than the O’Connells would allow,” Grant says, studying me carefully. “When our mother was dying, she made references that coincide with your stories. But her details were specific.”
“You—you think I’m Calla O’Connell, the child of what? Some secret society members?” My voice is once again distant as images I thought I’d imagined while writingThe Deadly Vowreplay now, in terrifying color.
Except this time, the abducted child isn’t a little boy with black hair and blue eyes—the child is…me.
“Yes,” Grant drags out the single word. “We think your birth name is Calla O’Connell, and your father’s family has been saving people the world forgot about for generations.”
Just like in my books.
I pinch my arm. Hard. Hard enough to leave a bruise. Hard enough to ground me to this fucked-up reality.
“This can’t be happening.” Did I say those words out loud? “She tried to kill me.” My words are louder now, anger pushing up through my chest with volcanic force and shoving the fear into a corner of my mind I try not to visit. “Why do that after she went to such lengths to keep me for so many years?”
