Page 61 of Assassin's Mark
I expected some fake name along the line of Johnson and Smith, but he simply smiled. “Levi.”
I noticed he didn’t give my name.
“Nice to meet you.” Geneva smiled up at me. “Well, sit, young lady.”
“Th-thank you.” I sat. Without thought I reachedup, took the cap from my head, and shook out my hair. It wasn’t until I heard Geneva’s gasp that I realized what I’d done.
Geneva pressed a frail hand over her heart, those intense eyes wide and disbelieving as she studied my face. “Caroline?”
God, what had I done? I darted a glance at Levi, whose narrowed eyes were watching Geneva.
“You knew her, then?” he asked.
Geneva stared at me, andI swore I saw the sheen of tears brighten her eyes. “Oh yes, I knew Caroline very well. Are you…” She raised her hand as if to touch me, to make sure I was real. “Are you her daughter? Little Abby all grown up?”
The words registered in my ears the moment they were said, but it took longer for my brain to puzzle out their meaning. When I finally did, it hit me like a freight train. “Her daughter?Caroline’s daughter? I—” A sudden sick twist of my stomach had me swallowing hard. “Levi?”
There was supposed to be a connection between Derrick and Caroline, but not this. It wasn’t supposed to involve me. It was… I mean, this was… “I—”
The room started to spin.
Levi’s hand slid into mine, gripped me hard. His touch steadied me, helped me catch my breath. But I couldn’t look away from Genevaas she soaked in the sight of me, tears trickling down her lined face. I hadn’t realized I’d joined her until Levi handed me a tissue.
I looked away.
After mopping myself up, I looked back to Geneva. “You…remember me?”
“Lord, girl. Even if I didn’t, you are the spitting image of your mama. But I’m guessing you weren’t aware of that.” Sorrow settled onto her face like falling snow. “I was afraidof that.”
“What?”
But Levi’s raised hand forestalled Geneva’s answer. “Maybe we should start at the beginning. Mrs. Sanderson, you’ve already guessed that Abby didn’t know her mother.” He left out the part about me already having a mother, or at least, thinking I already had one. My mind reeled. “What can you tell us about Caroline Clark? We’ve only managed to track her here. What happened toher?”
Geneva eased back into the soft cushions of her chair. “She never would tell me where she came from, but her people weren’t good to her, from the sounds of it. She worked three jobs to get herself out of a homeless shelter and into her place next door. Wanted to go back to school, but she got pregnant before she could. I do know she was so proud to be here. She worked hard to build a goodlife for herself—and later, for you too,” Geneva said to me.
“But…if she was my mother”—bigif, right? Had to be…—“then who is my father?”
“She wouldn’t tell me, child. I gather he had money; he used to send one of those big black town cars to pick her up sometimes. The last time I saw her, she had you bundled up in the pink blanket I gave her when you were born, and she was getting in thatcar again. Caroline said her man had gotten her a new place, somewhere her baby could be safe.”
Geneva eased her way forward in her chair, preparing to stand. “She wasn’t supposed to give a forwarding address, but she did anyway. Worried her brother might come looking for her.” She shuffled over to a tall hutch in the corner. “He never did.”
Except he had. And now he was dead.
