Or so I thought.
The same way I thought he loved me. That my adoption had been the whim of a kindhearted soul and
not an act of greed. God, I need to believe those lies more than ever. But they’re slipping away from
me like tabloid fodder printed on cheap paper.
“You have every right to hate me.” His fingers flex in mine as he stares into my eyes. They’re
bloodshot and hurt to keep open for too long. Or maybe it’s his face that stings my vision and makes
my eyelids lower. “I don’t blame you, sweet pea. In some ways, I hate myself for what I’ve done.
There is no excuse.”
“You knew who he was,” I say thickly. “The man who attacked me. All this time and you knew.”
“Juliana…” His face pales. Artificial light enhances the wrinkles and he ages decades in seconds,
becoming a wizened old man I barely recognize. “I refuse to lie to you again.” He releases my hand
as if burned. “It’s true.”
I wince as that hollow feeling inside of my chest festers and spreads like cancer.Truth…that twenty
years ago, Heyworth Thorne defended a man accused of murder before he ever sat on a judge’s
bench.
And the man in question?
“Who?” My words run together, slurred with tears and pain. “Just tell me who he is please!”
All those years of therapy after Leslie’s death. The grim insinuation that maybe I had something to do
with her murder. The agonizing years the Matodas have gone without closure.
All of it congeals into a painful ball weighing on my chest.
“Is that why you adopted me?” I add hoarsely when he hasn’t replied. “Guilt?”
“Perhaps,” he admits. “Or greed. I knew I’d been used. I wanted to right that wrong—any way I
could. Even if it meant using a little girl by taking guardianship over her so that if the moment came…
I could give authority for her to testify.”
“That’s why you adopted me?”
He doesn’t deny it. The man I’ve thought of as my father simply lowers his head, his features
agonized. “I knew what I’d done. And I thought if I could get you to the right officer who could ask the
right questions, we could bring him down for good. But then I met you. This sweet, innocent girl…
Call me whatever you want, Juliana, but don’t you doubt for a second that I love you. Too much, some
might say. And theyhavesaid.” He blinks, sending moisture dripping down his cheeks. “In the end, I