Page 69 of Chasing Your Ghost

“Can we get you something else?” Edith asked.

Riley opened her eyes to find the whole family standing around her. “Maybe some toast or a sandwich.”

“I’ll get it,” Olivia volunteered. She sent Riley a shaky smile before running off to the kitchen, her earlier anger seemingly forgotten.

“Does this happen a lot?” Hugh asked.

“Only when I skip meals,” Riley replied. “I have problems with hypoglycemia.”

She hadn’t meant the words as a barb, but Edith flinched as though she’d been slapped. “Oh, Riley, I’m so sorry. I knew your dad struggled with that, but I had no idea you did too. If I had, I would never have sent you to your room without dinner.”

“I know.” Riley had no energy to argue, and she knew there was no lie in the woman’s apology. Still, her voice had an edge to it. She hadn’t forgotten Edith’s assumptions about the wine and her inability to stand without help.

“Do we need to take you to a hospital?” Edith asked. “You were only unconscious for a second, but you still passed out.”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Noah helpfully noted.

Riley’s lips quirked up even though she felt like death warmed up. “I promise I’m okay. Just need to eat something, and I’ll be right as rain.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Hugh asked.

There wasn’t a trace of anger or frustration in his voice and nothing in his expression to say he was pinning the blame on her, but Riley was immediately on the defensive. “I tried to tell you earlier, but if I’m remembering correctly, I wasn’t exactly given much of a chance to speak.”

Edith’s lips pressed together, and Riley could tell she was fighting back tears. “I should have given you a chance to explain,” she admitted. “But after New York, it…well, it seemed like an obvious conclusion to make.”

Riley knew there was validity to Edith’s excuse, but that didn’t change the fact that none of them had even had an inkling of doubt. They’d all been happy enough to accept Edith’s assumption as correct.

None of them had given her a chance to explain herself. More than that, Edith had taken one look at the books she’d ordered and reacted as though Riley had joined a satanic cult or had been caught taking drugs. Her reaction had been completely unfair.

“You know what, Edith?” Riley said with an angry huff. She sat up, needing to be looking at the woman head-on. “Save it. I’m done with you and all of your excuses.”

“Riley,” Hugh said, his tone pleading with her not to say whatever hurtful words she had planned for his wife, but she wasn’t going to let him talk her out of saying what needed to be said.

“Wine, butter, lemon juice, flour, and chicken stock,” she listed coldly.

“What?” Edith asked with a confused frown.

“They’re ingredients for a sauce my dad used to make—a lemon and white wine sauce that I was going to make for dinner. It pairs deliciously with chicken.” She sent a glare to Edith. “I wasn’t about to pour myself a glass of wine. I was about to make dinner since Hugh was a bit busy helping you.”

Edith gulped. “I should have let you explain,” she admitted.

Hugh tilted his head up and down in a nod of acknowledgment. “I’m sorry,” he said with a grimace. “We should have given you the chance to tell us that.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Noah said, guilt shining in his eyes, and something in Riley eased with the men’s apologies.

They’d hurt her more than she wanted to admit.

“Riley—” Edith began.

“Save it,” Riley snapped, cutting her off. “Let’s just be honest with each other and call it like it is. You were so desperate to have me here, to be a part of my life, but the truth is that the daughter you’re so desperate to have a relationship with doesn’t exist.”

Edith shook her head slowly. “What are you talking about?”

“The daughter you want doesn’t have dyed hair. She isn’t interested in ghosts and what you like to call ‘the occult’. The daughter you’ve been trying to get back—the one who dances in ballet competitions and who you thought you knew because my dad told you a few superficial things about my grades and my hobbies—she’s just a figment of your imagination that you’ve been building up for years.”

It was so clear to her that Edith had been doing exactly that. The woman wanted Riley in her life, just not the real Riley. Edith wanted a version of her that only existed in her mind. Riley was nothing but a disappointment when compared to the lie of a daughter that her egg donor had dreamt up.

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