Page 86 of Buried Roots

My eyes glaze over as my brain kicks into overdrive. “I’ve been in your house before. And being there today brought back repressed memories.”

He goes wide-eyed. “No way. Are you sure?”

I describe the places of his house that I didn’t see today to prove it to him. Then I say, “I had to have been there when I was five years old because it was the day that I met my adoptive parents. They met me on that brown, flowery couch. They said they’d come to take me to a really good school in New York.” Owen’s eyes look torn, broken as he looks at me, but I continue. “I was so sad to leave my mom and Nana and Papa, but these people were so nice. They told me they’d give me anything I needed. They’d make sure that I had everything as I started kindergarten.”

He rubs his thumb over the palm of my hand. “I don’t understand. My mom had to know about this. Why didn’t she say anything?”

“I think maybe she doesn’t know, Owen.” I glance up at the starry night sky. “I remember a man being at your house with us, who was probably your father. And Grandma Lottie was his mother.”

“Yeah. Dad did a lot of things without telling us or Ma.”

I swirl my foot in the water. “If he was the one who faked my death certificate, which is possible because he was the Assistant DA at the time, then this might’ve been something he never told her. I mean, faking someone’s death is pretty messed up.”

“No kidding. He also didn’t want to endanger our family.” There’s regret in Owen’s tone when he talks about his father, which I understand. It’s still hard to hear.

“But I remember being happy at your house. Grandma Lottie was good to me and spoiled me with candy. I’m sure she must’ve been hiding me after they’d said I was dead. I remember being scared to go, but relieved to get away from the man who tried to hurt me.” I sit for another moment, processing my own memories as another one hits. “He left me in the woods.” I look at Owen. “That just came back to me. That man who kidnapped me left me in the woods to die.” So, that’s why I’m so afraid of them. “Maybe here in Violet Moon—I get shivers just looking at the forest by the gnarly tree. Maybe the man who did this lives here.”

“Jesus. How can I help?” is all Owen says.

“Maybe my biological father knows something.” I tell him that Blake Murphy is from a ridiculously wealthy and influential family from Buckhead, the Beverly Hills of Atlanta. Son of Bradford Murphy, Georgia’s State Attorney, Blake is a named partner at a law firm and is working his way up to fill his father’s big shoes. I have my mother’s coloring and facial features, but my father’s forehead and bone structure. And, apparently, his ambition. I’m almost certain he’s not the one who kidnapped me because he looks nothing like the man I remember. I close my eyes and sigh before I say, “At first, just the thought of coming face to face with my biological father made me dizzy, claustrophobic, and panicked. But after some time, and now in desperate need of answers, I think I want to meet him.”

“Then maybe it’s time you go see him, Willow.” Owen’s voice is soft. “I bet he knows something.”

I stare at the stars, wishing they had some answers for me. “I don’t know. I’m scared. He didn’t want me.”

Owen puts his arm around me. “Maybe he never even knew about you. Or, if he didn’t want you then, he might now. I’ll be with you. At the very least, he owes you answers.”

“So many answers.” Why didn’t he take me instead of letting Bo and Lily place me for adoption? That is, if he knows about me. Why did my mother die at thirty-two? “I don’t want to face him, but I think I have to.”

“We need to find out more about him.”

“I’ve found out all I can via Google. In search results, he seems like a wonderful man. A successful lawyer with a beautiful family.”

Owen groans. “Yeah, sometimes men like that are not all they seem. He didn’t take care of your mom.”

“True, but maybe he regrets it.” I sigh. “You’re right—we need to go. I have to find answers. Someone here is after me.”

“Then that answers that. Tomorrow, we head to Atlanta to meet and talk to your dad.”

“Okay. I’m ready.” My phone buzzes three times in succession, and I check to see that it’s texts from Roy. He never texts me.

I have information for you, Willow. Call me right away.

I’m coming to your house. We have to talk immediately.

What? After I show Owen the texts, I say, “This seems bad if Roy is coming here to see me in person this late.”

“It does.”

A chill rattles me, but a rustle in the grass draws my eyes to the side of the lake where the cattails are. I might be losing my mind, but I swear I catch a glimpse a small-framed man in a sweatshirt scrambling away.

“Did you see what I just saw?” Owen jumps up.

“I think so,” I say, my heart rate soaring.

Owen takes off running and I follow behind, both barefoot, and we end up on a frantic search through the property. In the chaos, Owen and I get separated, and the moon is our only light.

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