“That’s horrible,” I breathe, my pulse pounding in my ears.
Karson’s expression doesn’t soften.
“It gets worse,” he continues. “A couple years later, their daughter went into the system.”
Tears fill my eyes and I try to blink them away. I already know what he’s about to say. I can feel it, but I shake my head anyway.
“No.”
Karson’s voice is soft when he says it.
“You were their daughter.”
The tears spill over my lashes, hot on my cheeks. My hands shake, and I try to pull my head away from Karson’s touch like it's burning me.
“No,” I repeat in a whisper. “No, that’s not true. Both of my parents died in an accident when I was three. I lived with Nana and Papa until–” I try desperately to rein in the onslaught of emotions. My entire body trembles, and my breathing becomes fast and heavy. “No, no, no.”
“Ashlynn, look at me,” Karson says in a firm but gentle tone, both hands cupping my face as he tries to reel me back in from the spiral I feel myself falling into.
My eyes dart all over his face frantically before finally locking onto his.
“There you are. Breathe for me.”
I suck in a breath, my ribs telling me when it’s enough, and shakily let it out.
“Good,” he coos. “Just like that.”
Another shaky breath leaves me.
“This…this can’t be real,” I whisper. “Why would they do that?”
“Because Melissa couldn’t have children.”
My brow furrows. “What does that have to do with me?”
“They knew exactly who you were,” he says quietly. “And they wanted you. But Melissa didn’t actually want to raise a kid.”
A hollow feeling opens in my chest. All the years of feeling unwanted, neglected, abused and mistreated. It all starts to make sense.
“So they paid people. DHS workers, foster homes–anyone who could make sure you stayed exactly where they wanted you. When you were old enough, and Melissa didn’t need to do anything more than mold you into the perfect heiress, they picked you up and brought you home.”
My stomach twists violently. A fresh wave of tears streams down my face.
“So all those homes…” I whisper.
Karson nods once. “All funded by them.”
The room feels too small, like the walls are closing in around me.
“Ashlynn,” Karson takes my hands again, lifting one to his lips, brushing a soft kiss to my knuckles. “I’m so sorry.”
“M-my father,” I say shakily. “If he survived the accident, where is he now? Is he still where Jack put him?” I sniff. “Karson, we need to get him.”
Karson stills. The shift is subtle but I feel it. Fear curls in my gut.
“What?” I ask, my voice barely there. He exhales slowly.
“He escaped the psych ward a couple of months ago.”
