“Ellie, listen.” Jett takes a seat on the couch and wraps one arm around me. “First, I want to be clear. Kayne will never abandon you. And if the thought even crosses his mind, I’ll kill him, and I’ll make sure it hurts. Second, you’ll never be alone. No matter what happens, you have me and London and we love you like family.”
“Thank you.” I rest my head on his shoulder. “That’s very reassuring, but I’m not worried about me. I want our child to know his father. Know the person I know. I really think you need to talk to him. Convince him that he needs to find out what happened and put the past to rest. It’s the only way he’s going to move on.”
Jett stiffens before he lets out a huge sigh. “Ellie, I think there’s something I need to tell you, and I think now is definitely the time.”
I look up at him warily. “What?”
Jett gets up from the couch and walks around his desk. He opens a drawer, pulls out a folder, and drops it on the desktop.
“What’s that?”
“The smoking gun.”
“Huh?”
“It’s a copy of Kayne’s caseworker’s file. The one who was assigned to him when his mother was trying to regain custody.”
“What?!”I fly to my feet.
“How long have you had this?” I snatch the folder up and open it. The contents contain a bunch of papers and a picture of a seven-year-old Kayne sad enough to break your heart into a million pieces.
“Since right before we went undercover together.”
“What.”You could knock me over with a feather right now. “That’s like . . .” if my math is right, “over ten years.”
Jett confirms with a reluctant nod. “I had to be prepared in case of any surprises. So I looked into what happened to her.”
“And . . . ? What happened?” I flip through the file looking for answers. “Where is she?”
Jett’s expression just gets bleaker. “She’s dead, Ellie. She died shortly after Kayne met her for the first time.”
“No.” My chest tightens.
“I’m sorry.”
“How?”
“A car accident.”
“No, I mean how does Kayne not know this? He was in the system. He had a caseworker. Wasn’t it their responsibility to tell him?” I ask irate.
“I have a theory about that.”
“A theory?” I huff.
“Yes. At the same time Kayne’s mom was working to gain back custody from the state, Kayne was living with two of the most abhorrent foster parents in Motor City. It doesn’t say this in the file, but I believe what happened was when the social worker showed up unannounced to deliver the news, she caught the couple abusing Kayne. It says she ‘found him locked in a small broom closet, dirty and naked and smelling like urine.’”
“Oh, god.” My stomach turns. Animals.
“I believe, since it doesn’t say much after that account, the social worker didn’t want to traumatize Kayne further. So when she removed him from the home, she didn’t tell him about his mother.”
“Okay, well, she should have told him eventually, no?”
“Yes, I’m sure, but researching further, I came across the elderly woman’s death certificate. In an unforeseen twist of fate, she apparently died of a heart attack three days after sheremoved Kayne from the household.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“I could not make this stuff up.”
