Page 92 of Brage & Dinah

Brage walked her toward the truck. The emptiness inside of her echoed, reminding her that she'd never felt as if she belonged. Not in school. Not at home.

The urge to run back to the clubhouse with Brage where it was safe to hide away from the world urged her to walk away. With him, she felt accepted.

"Wait," called her mother.

She stumbled to a stop, looked at Brage, and turned around slowly. Her mother pressed her hand to her stomach.

"M-my daughter...when she was three years old fell back and hit her..." Her mother stepped forward and stopped. "She hit the back of her head on the edge of the fireplace hearth. Right below her hairline. It was a significant injury. She had eighteen stitches."

Dinah looked at Brage, shaking her head. She couldn't remember.

His gaze softened. "Let me look," he whispered.

She turned around. His hands gathered her hair and lifted. She dipped her chin to her chest. What if she wasn't scarred? What if the woman wasn't her mother?

His fingers slid over her skin. A shiver rolled up her spine, settling around her neck. Unaware if she had ever injured herself, she could only stand still while he inspected the area.

Brage's hand skimmed the back of her neck, and he kissed the side of her head. "Babe, I think your mom would like to see."

She nodded, holding still.

Behind her, her mom whispered, "How can this be?"

"From what we know, Moroad faked her death at the time her father was murdered. Two members of Moroad, brothers named Brad and Tony Reed, raised her from that point." Brage let her hair fall around her shoulders and turned her around, keeping his hand on her back. "She doesn't remember anything before that point."

"No, she wouldn't. How could she?" Her mom stared at her, taking in every detail. "She was only four years old when I lost her." The cords on her mother's neck spasmed. "Is it really you?"

"I believe so." Dinah blinked the tears out of her vision. "I don't know anything about me. I can't remember."

Her mother lifted her hand, hesitated, and then swept the strand of hair back from Dinah's face. "Your name is Dinah Ann Gardiner. You were the most beautiful baby. I used to hold you for hours and just look at you in awe. I couldn't believe that your dad and I could make someone so perfect. We'd done everything wrong up until the point I got pregnant and had you. You were the perfect baby."

"Dinah Ann?" Her voice broke. "I didn't know."

Her mom nodded, letting the tears flow down her face. "I can see your dad in your jaw, your mouth."

Brage held on to her. "How old am I?"

"You would've been..." Her mom shook her head, new tears flowing. "You're twenty-four years old. Your birthday is September tenth."

Unable to look away from the woman in front of her, she panicked. Her whole life had been a lie.

She was two years younger than she'd thought. All the struggles to keep up in school. Her maturity level. She always felt different until she became an adult when she stayed to herself.

"This would probably be a good time to take a break. You've been through a lot today with us showing up out of the blue and Dinah's had a rough day." Brage's hand came up and palmed her neck.

"I have a lot more questions." Her mom wiped her cheeks. "I want to...I would like to get to know you and learn about..."

Dinah nodded. "Me, too."

"The men...Moroad men raised you?" The lines on her mother's forehead deepened. "They threatened me, and I was forced to move. Oh, God. How could I have not known? My baby was alive?"

"It's okay." Dinah smothered her sob, nodding her head. "I didn't know either."

Her mother swayed on her feet, covering her mouth. The pain in her eyes pierced Dinah. She had no answers to give her mother, and she had her own questions polluting her head.

Brage wrapped his arms around her. "Maybe we could exchange contacts, and Dinah can call you later. I know this has been a shock."

"Let me get a piece of paper and give you my phone number." Her mom stepped back and stopped. "Please don't leave until I—"