Page 88 of Blindsided
“Kane,” Connor speaks for the first time, his voice steady despite the emotion visible on his face. “I know this is hard to accept. I spent years caring for him, watching his mind slip away piece by piece. But in his lucid moments... he talked about you. All of you. With love.”
“Love?” I laugh bitterly. “Is that what you call this?”
Connor meets my eyes, unflinching. “He was flawed. Deeply so. But he wanted to make amends in the only way he knew how.”
I look away, unable to bear the sincerity in his gaze. Connor, who ran the household after his mother, the original housekeeper, passed away. When the old man passed away, the first time was when Connor found out he was just another bastard like me. At least he had time with our father, even if it was during Tomas’s decline. All I got was this elaborate posthumous scavenger hunt.
“What exactly is in Alberta?” Kat asks, breaking the tense silence.
Dr. Reid shakes his head. “I don’t know the details. Only Tomas arranged everything before his death. The property is held in trust, waiting for your arrival.”
“I say we go,” Declan decides, pocketing the letter. “One last trip. For closure, if nothing else.”
I want to argue, to refuse this final manipulation, but I’m suddenly exhausted. The emotional whiplash of the past weeks—discovering my true parentage, chasing a sister who never existed, kissing Kori, confronting her husband, and now learning my father is dead—has left me hollow.
“Kane?” Kori’s voice is soft beside me. “What do you want to do?”
I look at her—really look at her. The woman who boarded a plane to escape her own pain and somehow got tangled up in mine. Who’s stood by me through every bizarre twist in this family saga. Who makes me feel grounded when everything else is chaos?
“I want...” I begin, not entirely sure how to finish that sentence. What do I want? Answers? Peace? A future that isn’t shadowed by the past? “I want to understand why. Why all of this? And I don’t think I’ll get that unless we go to Alberta.”
Kori nods, her hand finding mine. “Then we go.”
“We leave tomorrow,” Declan says, always the commander. “Dr. Reid, will you join us?”
The doctor shakes his head. “My role was to deliver the truth and Tomas’s remains. What you do with both is up to you now.”
I stare at the urn again, this small container that holds what’s left of a man I never really knew. My father. The architect of this elaborate deception that brought us all together, that brought Kori into my life.
“What do we do with...” I gesture toward the urn, unable to finish the question.
“That’s part of the Alberta plan, I believe,” Dr. Reid says gently. “Tomas had precise wishes about his final resting place.”
Of course he did—one last command from beyond the grave.
As the others discuss logistics for tomorrow’s journey, I slip away, needing space, air, distance from this new reality. Kori follows me without a word, her presence a silent comfort as we step onto the terrace overlooking the estate grounds.
“I’m sorry,” she says when we’re alone.
“For what? You didn’t create a fake sister or die without telling me.”
“I’m sorry you’re hurting,” she clarifies. “I know what it’s like to have hope dangled in front of you, only to have it yanked away.”
I lean against the stone balustrade, feeling the cool granite beneath my palms. “I don’t even knowwhat I’m mourning. A father I never really knew. A sister who never existed. The answers I thought I was going to get?”
“All of it, probably,” Kori says, joining me at the railing. “Grief isn’t linear or logical.”
“How are you so calm about all this?” I ask, studying her profile as she gazes out at the rolling lawns. “First, your husband shows up, now this. It’s like we’re living in some bizarre soap opera.”
She smiles faintly. “Maybe I’m in shock. Or maybe after everything with Mark and Lana, my capacity for surprise is just... maxed out.”
I reach for her hand, needing the connection. “You can still back out, you know. Go home, deal with your divorce, rebuild your life without all this MacGallan madness.”
“Is that what you want?” she asks, turning to face me fully. “For me to go?”
“No,” I admit, the word coming easily. “I want you with me. Through whatever happens next.”
“Then that’s where I’ll be.” She says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
