Page 124 of When Hearts Ignite

Grace. My sweet darling, Grace.

I clamor to my feet and lurch toward the door. My hands are clammy as sweat gathers on my forehead. My fingers tremble as I grab the doorknob and twist, pulling open the door.

Her thick hair is in disarray, her face bare of makeup, her body hidden by an oversized sweater reminiscent of the ones she used to wear when I first saw her at Pietra. The thought sends a small ember of warmth inside me.

She’s still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.

Her lips are flattened, her eyes narrowing and with a huff of breath, she shoves me hard in the chest and I stagger back into the suite.

“How dare you, Steven Kingsley!”

The darkness enveloping me recedes briefly as confusion enters the picture. “Grace?”

“You think I’ll just accept a letter and a photo from you and let you upend my life?” She stomps into the suite, all fire and blazing glory, determination lacing her voice.

I’m awed. Floored by her passionate anger.

“Darling, my mother told me the truth. My father collapsed when I confronted him. Trust me,” my voice breaks, “this is the last thing I want to be true.”

She whirls around, her hair flying behind her like a whip through the air. “And your mother is the end-all-be-all truth-holder now? The last I checked, it takes a man and a woman to make a baby and that woman definitely does not include the jilted wife. And your father…did he specifically say the words ‘Grace is your sister?’”

My breath catches and I stay silent.

Grace charges forward, her finger wagging at me, and presses me against the door. “I asked Mom multiple times if Uncle Bobby is our father and she always said no. And forgive me, but I believe the woman who birthed me out of her vagina over your mom or whatever you thought your father said.”

My pulse thrums in my ears as her words sink in. A kernel of hope, the one tiny piece of her left in my chest, wants to take root, to blossom inside me.

Can it be? Can this all be a misunderstanding?

“Grace, why would she lie? She was devastated. I’ve never seen her like that before. And Father…he looked at me with horror and shock when I confronted him.”

She throws her hands up in the air. “I don’t know! Mistakes happen. But I don’t think my mom would lie to us either. You believe your parents and I believe mine.”

Grace heaves out a frustrated breath, her small frame shaking, her face flushed, her body teeming with energy, with determination, with life. And I can’t help but love her even more, even though that’s the last thing I should be doing.

She’s one of a kind. Amazing. I fucking love her to the ends of the earth.

She shakes her head. “I’m not going to believe anything unless I see the truth in front of me.”

Suddenly, her frame stills, mere inches from my body as her eyes take on a sharp glint. I can practically see the gears turn in her head. I read the look in her eyes as the first logical thought in the last twenty-four hours lights up my mind.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” I ask.

She dips her head in a nod.

“This is so stupid.” She mutters other things under her breath before she takes out her phone from her purse and swipes on the screen, her brows furrowing in concentration.

The phone rings three times before a deep male voice answers.

“Emerson Clarke speaking.”

Her investigator.

The breath lodges in my chest as I take in her furrowed brows, her eyes fierce and determined, because she refuses to give up, because she’s running the facts to the ground, like the meticulous intern I met a year ago, the one person who never misses the details because it’s the details that matter at the end.

“E-Emerson, this is Grace,” she says breathlessly, nervousness in her voice.

“Perfect timing. I was just about to call you.”

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