Page 91 of Fool Me Twice

“Rodrigo,” I returned.

He broke into a grin, and I giggled.

“What now?” I asked.

“Anything we want.”

CHAPTER27

RODRIGO

“Are you nervous?” Georgia rubbed my shoulder, and gratitude surged through me.

“Less so now,” I said, taking her hand.

“You’ll do great.”

I curled my fingers around the steering wheel. “I hope so.” Still, anticipation had me nearly feeling sick.

We’d only been waiting in the car for Sebastián for a few minutes, and already I felt like I needed to throw up. He’d asked me that morning at breakfast for photos of his birth parents, and I’d spent the better part of an hour compiling an album.

Going through photos from the last few decades had been bittersweet. It had been so long since I’d really stopped and let myself think about my brother—or, really, anything but what was right in front of me.

A lot of emotions had come up, both positive and negative.

More than once, I’d hated Benicio for leaving Sebastián and me. He’d made a careless decision, and it had cost him more than his life. It had altered the course of his son’s life forever.

He’d been a man in pain, though, and I knew his overdose had been an accident. He’d been on a landslide with drugs ever since Izabel died, starting with prescription and then ending with illegal substances.

The pain, I guess, had been too much to bear. He’d tried his best, though, and probably didn’t know how to go on unless he was medicated.

That was something. A viewpoint that allowed me to sleep at night.

“School is out,” Georgia announced.

Through the window, the school’s front doors opened and children and teachers spilled forth. Something in me screwed up tight, and when Sebastián’s green backpack appeared in the crowd I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

But then Georgia’s hand found mine and everything in the world righted itself.

Sebastián opened the back door and climbed in. “Hi.”

“Hi, Sebastián.” Georgia glowed. “How was your day?”

He shrugged and dumped his backpack on the seat next to him. “It was okay.”

“Would you like to get ice cream?” I asked.

“No.” His lips twisted, a sure sign that something was on his mind.

“What is it?” I asked, carefully pulling out of school traffic.

“What was my dad’s name? And my mom’s name?”

I looked at him in the rearview mirror. Apparently this had been on his mind all day long.

“Benicio,” I said. “And Izabel.”

He nodded, his gaze still on the window. “Ah.”

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