Anna leaned her elbows onto the table between them, and her hand caught his where it rested over his most recent book. “Maybe she’ll have something to say that will make all of this better.”
Her touch was warm. Sympathetic. Almost absentminded. But most notably, this touch wasvoluntary. This was a girl who had chosen to believe he wasn’t evil, despite all the rumors. She had no reason to trust him, no motive to continue an acquaintance with him, not even any shared memories like he had with Autumn. But she trusted him anyway.
So maybe he could rely on her judgment.
David stared at her hand on his. “Or maybe she’ll say something that makes it all infinitely worse.”
In his peripheral vision, she shook her head. “You can’t know unless you talk to her. You are many things, but a coward isn’t one of them.”
He tsked. “Little do you know.”
Her answering smile kept him preoccupied all the way to his mother’s doorstep.
Autumn took him to a suite of rooms high in the Tree. Upon entry, David was disappointed to note the space empty of all but two figures. The vine-laden foyer opened by archway to a sitting room surrounded by leaded glass peering into the canopy of the forest. The Sunshine Room, as David would later learn to call it, was ironically bathed in lavender twilight, allowing the golden woman standing beside Sean’s father to shine.
Both directed their gazes toward him, their insides bubbling with hope. He turned to lead, and his feet bolted to the floor.
Autumn snatched David’s hand and dragged him to stand far too close to this ethereal woman. They stood in a square, silent. The woman’s gaze locked on his face. Other than the slight hitch to her breathing and the nerves cascading through her insides, she was utterly composed.
David took a moment to absorb her. They shared the same coloring, right down to the pale green of her eyes. Something about her current smile—higher on one side—reminded him of his own reflection. Her gold hair fell to her waist in gentle waves. Luster clung to her skin in flares and flashes.
This was his mother. His real one.
The only silver lining he could find in her existence was that it lessened the sting of his adoptive mother’s flagrant neglect. He wasn’t Alex Berkeley’s son, so of course she’d never found it in her tolove him. It made sense, even if the whole schtick felt like one large existential sigh.
He wanted to run. Escape. To be anywhere else. Anywhere at all.
“You’re here,” she said in a voice that reminded him of the soft edge of a daisy petal.
He said nothing. It was an idiotic statement that required no validation on his part. Besides, his throat wanted to close entirely, so he wasn’t sure sound would emerge if he tried.
She took a hesitant step toward him. On instinct, David stepped back.
She paused at that reaction, brows raised. “I—don’t know what to say. I’ve imagined this so many times. And now you’re—you’re here.”
Nonplussed, David continued his silence.
The hope in her emotions faded to angst. “I spoke to Blaire Hart when I arrived. I understand you knew her?—”
“I didn’t know her,” David said, straining to get the words out. He’d known Blaire existed, peripherally. He’d only spared her thought when she was visiting his fake mother in the prison he called home.
The woman’s head tilted. “She had a great deal to say about you.”
“Nothing good, I’m sure.”
She drew a surprised breath and glanced at Kywyn, who offered an encouraging nod.
The golden woman clasped her hands before her. “I apologize. Let me start over. My name is Elenya Manae. I am told you are called David?”
He declined to answer.
She expelled a slow puff of air. “Twenty-one years ago I gave birth to you and entrusted your care to Blaire’s friend, Xandra. Blaire says that what happened between then and now involved some sordid activities regarding your adoptive father, whom Xandra could not control. Is that correct?”
David did nothing except narrow his eyes, but his brain snagged on one word.
Adoptive.
Was Garrett Berkeley not his real father?
