I walked towards it, each step heavy. Like I was trespassing on something sacred, or dangerous, or both. By the time I reached the door, my palms were damp and my heart was hammering hard enough that I wondered if she’d hear it from inside.
I raised my hand.
Then stopped.
What if she hated me?
What if she blamed me for the articles, the hunt, the mess my—our—name had caused? What if the only reason she was here was because of Tyler and not because she wanted to see me at all?
The door opened.
Tyler made way for me then connected his gaze to Convict’s over my head. I slipped into the room.
On a leather sofa, Dixie waited. She rose, barefoot, a pair of heels discarded to one side.
My brain refused to reconcile the image with the few photographs Cassie had shared. She was smaller than I’d expected. Softer. Not fragile, but coiled, as if ready to bolt if the air moved wrong.
Her blonde hair fell loose around her shoulders. There was a faint shimmer of makeup on her skin, carefully understated, andher eyes—my eyes but a different shade, I realised with a jolt—were watching me with wary intelligence.
“Hey.”
I swallowed a burst of emotion. “I’m so glad to meet you.”
“Long time coming.”
We stood there, a few feet apart, strangers bound by blood and history neither of us had chosen. The silence stretched, as breakable as glass.
Tyler’s enquiry interrupted it. “Want me in here or outside the door?”
Dixie smiled faintly at him. “Go talk to Convict for a bit. Just…”
“I won’t leave the hall.”
The snick of the door told me he’d gone.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” I managed. “I didn’t know if you would ever return.”
Her mouth twitched. “Same.” Dixie picked up a lock of her hair. Rubbed it between her fingers. “Your hair is my original colour.”
“Yours is so pretty. I love the platinum.”
“Vital for a showgirl.” She directed me to sit. “I… I need to apologise to you.”
“You don’t.” My words came out fast, and I tried to control them. “I mean, I feel the same. Like I owe you an apology for coming to the warehouse in the first place. Plus for not even knowing you existed until a few weeks ago.”
Dixie released a soft laugh. “That’s crazy talk. You couldn’t control either of those things. On the other hand, I did know you existed. I found out when I was thirteen. But I was under strict instructions never to contact you.”
My mind worked overtime. I didn’t blame her for that. I’d been told the same thing regarding Kane. “One of the older relatives mentioned that our grandparents were training up agranddaughter before me. I thought he was losing his marbles, but was that true?”
“Yes, hun. When I was a brand-new teenager, they showed up at our door, and within weeks, I was living with them. They wanted an heir, and my mother liked their money. I just felt special.”
A chasm opened in my heart. It already ached, but there was something so specific in her simple telling thathurt.
Dixie peered at me. “What is it? What did I say?”
I shook my head. “That’s my story almost exactly, except I was a year older, and they didn’t let me live with them. I went to boarding school, then in the holidays slept in an apartment they bought for me.”
Something passed over her vision. A bad memory, or an unpleasant thought.
