Page 15 of Forged in Flames (Made of Steel 2)

"No." I shook my head. "No he didn't."

"I can show you the paperwork..."

"He didn't adopt me!" My voice seemed to echo around the apartment. This wasn't possible. This couldn't be happening.

"I read the articles before they disappeared." For the first time she actually sounded like she felt bad for me. "I know what he did to you." She put her hand on top of mine.

"Don't touch me." I took a step away from her. I had a father. A wonderful, perfect, loving father. How dare Don tarnish that? It's like he had somehow taken that away from me too. Like he had pissed on my father's grave. He adopted me? I put my hand on my forehead. That disgusting asshole.

"I can tell that you don't want to talk anymore tonight."

Then why are you still talking? I turned away from her. I didn't want her to see me cry.

Liza cleared her throat. "But as soon as Roberts went dark, the real Sadie Davis appeared. I did some more digging and there was a huge drug bust out west. I think he went to go clean up the mess. And I think she's here to make things run smoothly in the meantime. Which means you need another name."

"No."

"What?"

"I'm done running. Don isn't here. So I'm going to be here waiting for him whenever he gets back. I'm not scared of whoever that woman is. I can handle her."

"Sadie..."

I turned back toward her. "My name is Summer." I needed someone to call me that. I needed someone to know I was still alive. I needed someone to remind me that I wasn't dead.

"Okay, Summer. There's a guest room down the hall. We can talk more about this in the morning."

Chapter 7

Saturday

Every time I closed my eyes I saw my mother's smiling face. But she was never looking at me. She was always in my father's arms, staring up at him, laughing. For her, the sun rose and set with him. Maybe that's why I had always believed so strongly in love. Maybe it was why I was still so infatuated with Miles after all these years. It was like my love for him was a part of me. It had seeped into my bones. And I did still love him. But I was so mad at him. How could he throw away his life waiting for a girl who disappeared? How could he have stopped living when he still had a choice?

I watched my father dip my mother low as the two of them danced. Why couldn't I remember her smiling at me? Look at me. She smiled back up at my father. They were so happy. They were still so full of life. How could they be gone?

I touched the center of my chest. I wasn't sure I'd ever stop reaching for my pendant that was no longer there. My heart ached. And I knew that I wasn't going to be able to sleep. I pushed the sheets off of me and climbed out of bed.

The cold wood floors made me shiver as I made my way out into the hall. I tiptoed into the kitchen, trying hard not to wake Liza up.

If Don Roberts had adopted me, it meant that he really had never been part of the foster care system.

It meant that Mr. Crawford was a fraud.

Those brief few days where I had felt safe in this city were a lie. Mr. Crawford had sent me here for a reason. He had lied to me for a reason. And it all came back to Don.

I sat down on the stool in front of Liza's computer. She had left it open. I clicked on her blog and read the latest article about the vigilante's good deeds. It was almost like the button to write a new post was calling to me. I clicked on it and started typing feverishly. I wrote about how he had saved me. How he truly was a hero. I ended it with Liza's usual sign off: "Someone in this city is watching us." But I added, "And it's time to unmask him," at the end. I pressed enter and the screen went black.

Static blasted into my ears and then something dark blue appeared on the screen. My eyes focused on a zipper of a hoodie.

It's him.

My heart seemed to knock against my ribcage as the vigilante slowly appeared on the screen. His mask was still on and his hood was still shadowing his face, but the hoodie wasn't zipped all the way up. I could see the very top of his chest. It was almost like he had read what I wrote and was trying to show me more of him.

"Go to sleep. You need your rest," the vigilante's voice rumbled.

"I know why you sent me here. I'm not changing my name. I'm not backing down. I've been weak and cast aside my whole life. I'm done."

"Good. Which is why you need your rest. Goodnight, Sadie."

---