Page 188 of Tarek

I fold my lips and move my head from side to side. “No.”

Archer pulls me in his arms and rocks me like he used to when I was a kid. “I will kill him.”

I wipe my face into his sweater and shake my head. “You can’t he is your brother.”

We both chuckle at that statement.

“What a world I live in. My brother is in love with my sister.” Archer kisses the top of my head.

“In some states that is considered acceptable.,” I pull away and bend my head. “Do you ever feel like I’m not your sister?”

“Do you ever feel like I am not your brother?” Archer countered.

I shake my head. “Never.”

“The moment dad brought you home with your bright pink Hannah Montana lunch box, you were my sister.”

I laughed. “I loved that lunch box so much.”

“Do you think mom considers me a daughter?” I ask softly.

“I think you should ask mom that question,” Archer replies.

“For once, Archer, you are absolutely correct.” Miranda Holt’s voice makes both of our heads turn to the door.

“That’s my cue to leave.” Archer kisses my head once more, jumps off the bed and stops by the door.

“Mother,” Archers says jokingly.

“Son?” Her eyebrows raise, and just like that Archer is gone.

“I need to learn the power of that eyebrow for these two children. Dear God,” I groan.

My mother is instantly at my side. “Are you in labor? Lie back let me examine you.”

I push her hands away. “I am fine.”

She sits and takes my puffy hands into hers. “Look at me, Penelope Holt.”

I drag my eyes up to hers, and a tear rolls down my face.

She wipes it away “The moment your father told me about you. I was mad and I told him we weren’t keeping you.”

My head drops but she gently lifts my chin. “But when I saw you, my spirit said that’s my daughter.”

“I feel like I’ve constantly had to prove I’m worthy of being your daughter.”

My mother chuckles. “And I’ve always felt like I’ve had to prove to you that I’m worthy of being your mom. You Penelope Holt are my child. No one else’s.”

“Really?”

“I will give up my life for you to live a great one,” she said so easily.

My bottom lip trembles. “I am so angry at Dad, at Tarek.”

Pulling me into her arms my mother rubs my back. “You didn’t even cry at your dad’s funeral. You aren’t angry my darling, you’re grieving over a love that your parents never gave you.”

Her words broke me, and I collapse crying into her chest. “Why did they find it so hard to love me?”

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