Page 118 of The Version You Hide

Grace finally unravels her arms from around my back, taking my hands in hers. “You got any plans for the rest of the day?”

I shake my head, running my thumb along my eyelid to catch the moisture. “Not really. I came to help you set up for tomorrow night.”

“I was hoping you might say that.” She smiles, then cups my cheeks in her soft, delicate hands. “But first, coffee. I have some lost time to make up for with my granddaughter.”

I beam back at her, my head bobbing between her palms. “Okay. I’d like that.”

She swings an arm around my shoulder and leads me to the café next door. She orders us two cappuccinos and a slice of the cake of the day, and we find a seat by the window.

Then over the most delicious piece of orange and poppyseed cake with cream cheese frosting, she catches me up on the details of her life and I fill her in on some of mine.

I cry when she tells me about my grandfather’s death, and she cries when I tell her about my father and Ethan. I give her the full story on how I came to live in Cliff Haven, about how without Henley’s help I don’t know where I’d be. I tell her about Kristen, the sister I never knew I had.

Then I tell her about Dylan. She tells me I have a keeper.

When she leaves the table to find the restroom, I find myself lost in thought, staring out at the boats in the marina outside.

I’ve never been a believer in fate. I’d never had any reason to be. But sitting here in a café with my long-lost grandmother, in a life that doesn’t nearly resemble the one I had a year ago, I can’t help but wonder where I’d be if Henley hadn’t come for me. If he’d never met Kristen.

I can’t go down the path of wondering about all the what ifs. I can only be thankful for where I am today, but there will always be a heaviness in my heart when I think of my mum.

“Mackenzie?” Grace’s voice jolts me from my thoughts and my head snaps in her direction. She’s seated across from me once again, having returned from the restroom. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” I nod. “I was just wondering about my mother. About what she would think if she could see us right now.”

“I think she’d be so proud of you.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself not to cry again. I’ve shed enough tears this week to last a lifetime. “I hope so.”

We drain the last of our coffees and head back to the studio. Grace slides the key into the lock and the door flies open with a twist of her wrist, but neither of us take a step inside. We’re too preoccupied with the rumbling of an engine behind us as it pulls up to the curb.

Grace cranes her neck, searching for the commotion. “What in the world?”

A familiar woman exits the cherry red Ferrari, her fiery auburn hair ablaze in the sunlight. Her stilettos clack on the pavement as she moves hurriedly toward us.

“Claire? Hey,” I say, turning back to Grace. “This is Dylan’s sister, Claire.”

“Hi, Mackenzie,” she replies.

It’s not until she flips her Prada sunglasses on top of her head that I notice the worry on her face. “Is everything okay?”

“Not exactly,” she replies. “It’s Dylan.”

“What do you mean?” Panic sets in, my lungs deprived of air as I struggle to take my next breath. “What happened?”

Claire, seeing my distress, waves her hands in front of me. “It’s not like that. He’s okay. He’s just having a hard day.”

“Okay,” I say. This isn’t making me feel any better.

She turns to Grace. “You must be Mackenzie’s grandmother.”

“Yes.” Grace nods, a hint of suspicion in her glance.

“Sorry,” I say, realising I hadn’t given Grace a formal introduction. “Claire, this is Grace.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Claire offers a smile, but there’s a trace of sadness hidden within it. “I understand that the building your studio is located in has been bought out by the Abbott Property Group.”

“Yes.” Grace lets out a sigh, a flicker of sadness in her expression.

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