Page 183 of Dream Mates
“All the ones I'm biologically related to.” The air whooshed out of him.
“What?” My chest shuddered.
“None of this is your fault, Grace,” Lark soothed. “Since your mother’s record is locked, they’re ruling out illegal genetics on your father’s side.”
“The young ones, are they with their siblings or separated? Is someone with them?” His scent grew sour with anxiety.
“They’re all together,” she told him. “Your mate Harry is with them.”
“Harry’s here.” Relief crossed his face.
“Look, her name wasn’t Thora Silvers. Her name was Rosalind Ellington. I don’t know her last name before she got married. She never told me. She couldn’t play piano for shit. She was one of those people that no one ever believed did wrong–especially once she started preaching with the church.” I met the nurses’ gaze. “Does that help?”
It wouldn’t though.
The nurse looked at her tablet and frowned. “Not without an additional name.” She looked at the professor.
“Grace, would you like to meet Harry?” The professor’s voice went hesitant. “I… I think you’d like him.” He looked to the nurse. “Could you bring Harry after he comforts the children? Just for a few moments? We’re not quite ready for the little ones.”
Lark shot me a look. One that clearly saidSee, he’s trying to respect your feelings.
“I’d love to meet Harry,” I replied, even though I wasn’t so sure.
“I can do that.” The nurse left.
“Harry and I are married and he’s only with me. Pip adores him though. She was there when I saw him for the first time. I made a total idiot of myself.” Nate chuckled.
I recalled what Creed and Verity said about Harry. “He has a restaurant.”
“He does. He’s a molecular gastronomist. The youngest three are mine and Harry’s. We call themthe littlesbecause they’re so much younger than everyone else.My sister carried the twins, and his sister carried Hope. It’s a bit odd having kids both in graduate programs and preschool,” he explained.
“Yeah, I can see that.” That was quite the age gap.
“You said that your mother’s name is Rosalind?” He turned to Lark. “May I see your tablet? I want to show Grace a picture of Thora.”
“Um, sure.” She handed it to him.
He typed for a moment then turned it to me. The headline was about a piano competition. An older teenager with dark blonde hair and blue-grey eyes stood there, smiling, holding a trophy.
I sucked in a sharp breath. That was my mother.
Yet it wasn’t. There was something about her smile, her eyes. She was too joyful.
The teenager wasn’t alone. There was a man and woman who were obviously her parents with her, two brothers… and another teenager, who lookedexactlylike her.
But not quite.
The look in her eyes was shrewd and calculating. Her expression was almost jealous of the teen with the trophy. Almost.
To most it looked like she was happy for her. But I knew that look–the one that outwardly looked socially acceptable, when the feelings within were not.
It was the same expression she wore telling people at church how proud she was of me for my grades, then berating me forembarrassingher with all my advanced classes. The look she used to convince a member of the church who was a psychiatrist to give me meds that made it hard to think, all in the name of my own good, of course.
Most people bought it. The ones that didn’t were avoided.
The room spun and I grabbed my head, squishing my eyes tight as I started to recitePiagain. If this was all true, then how the hell did I end up in my world,with that woman?
“Rosalind Silvers is Thora’s identical twin,” the professor said softly. “She disappeared around the time Thora died. The police came looking for her. Said she was dangerous but wouldn’t say why. Just like we never knew how and why Thora died.”
