Page 88 of The Secret Keeper's Daughter

No doubt in my mind.

He steps forward, and immediately Harek stands in front of me.

I push my friend to the side with a strength I never knew I had. He stumbles and gives me a dumbfounded look. I don’t apologize. Wouldn’t even if I could find my voice.

The man pushes some thick dreadlocks behind his shoulder and takes another step toward me.

Harek growls.

My father blinks a few times. “Tyra?”

I struggle to find my voice. “She’s my mother.”

His shoulders drop. “You look just like her.”

“I look just likeyou.”

He doesn’t deny it.

“Are you my father?” The question slips out, and it’s stupid. Obviously I’m his daughter—an imp without eyes could see that much.

“How old are you?” He rubs his palms together, dust falling from his fingerless gloves.

“Twenty-three.”

Harek puts a hand on my shoulder and shakes his head. He thinks I’m giving too much information.

What does it matter? If my father wants to kill me right here, he could easily overpower both of us. And I need answers.

My father glances up, like he’s doing the math. “That tracks, but how’s it possible? Where’s Tyra?”

“Dead.” My voice cracks.

His mouth falls open. “No.”

“Like you care,” I snap.

“What?”

“You haven’t been in our lives at all.”

He leans against a light post. “She disappeared one night, and I couldn’t find her.”

“Aren’t you a tracker?”

“Only of evil fae. There wasn’t a drop of badness in her. I can’t believe she’s gone.”

That reminds me to check my palm. No glow, no warmth. My father isn’t a threat to me.

Not yet.

“You’re really her daughter?” Disbelief drips from his tone.

“I look just like her, according to you. Yet allIsee is you—that’s all I’ve ever seen. You can’t deny I’m both of yours.”

He swallows. “But it’s impossible.”

“You didn’t have a relationship with her?”

---