Page 5 of Made in Malice

“I assumed as much. Your grandparents are very much alive, Nova, and they have been trying to contact you since they learned of your existence.”

“Why would my parents tell me they were dead?” I whisper, thinking out loud. They must be horrible people, right? Why else would my parents tell me they didn’t have any family? I rarely even asked them about it because I could tell it made my mom sad.

“Your mother left home when she was younger than you are now, Nova, when your grandparents forbid her from seeing Grant.”

“What? Why would they forbid her from seeing my dad?”

“I believe that question is for your family to answer. As I said, I’m here on their behest. They can’t leave their home right now, but they desperately want to know you.” I imagine a little old man and woman with white hair sitting in recliners, regretting whatever decision they made to alienate my mom.

“What about my dad’s parents? Are they dead?” It feels odd asking this question and hoping the answer is yes—not because I want them to be dead, but because I feel like everything was a lie and I need something to be true.

“You would have to speak to your grandparents about that, Nova,” he answers. I suppose that makes sense. Virgil is just a lawyer, so I can’t imagine he has all the details on the family drama.

“Why didn’t they call me themselves?”

“Astrid said she wanted the best chance to get you to listen and thought someone coming up here to personally speak with you would get the best results. I got the impression she felt like this was her final opportunity.”

“Astrid? That’s her name?”

“Yes, and your grandfather’s name is Rory.”

Astrid means star, and my mom named me Nova. She always told me I was her bright star. She wouldn’t have named me something so close to her mom’s name if she hated her, right? “This is…a lot. I…”

“I know, which is why I insisted on privacy, but there’s more you should know.”

“I’m listening,” I tell him when he doesn’t immediately continue.

“As I said before, your grandparents would like you to come home, to return to the estate, where you will have plenty of opportunities in life, such as attending Cadieux College, and get to know your family. I’m prepared to return you to them this very evening if you’re willing.”

“What? I’m not just picking up and leaving with you.” Is this guy crazy? And did he say estate?

“I understand your reservations, Miss Devlin, I do, but this is a time sensitive matter.” He doesn’t divulge why it’s time sensitive, but it’s not hard to jump to the conclusion that it may have something to do with my grandparents’ health. What else could it be?

That’s a strange thought. Up until today, I already thought they were dead, and it never really bothered me since I never met them, but it tugs at something in me now. Maybe it’s because the only family I ever had is gone, and this is like some weird, unasked dream to belong somewhere again come true.

“I can’t just trust you at your word, Mr. Haynsworth, pretty promises or not. You may think I’m being stubborn, but in my world, being smart keeps me alive.”

“I was worried you would feel that way, which is why I went ahead and booked you a flight on a commercial airline in two days.”

“Two days?” I look around my crummy apartment, thinking about all the things I would have to do before I could pick up and leave, and it dawns on me that it’s not much. I don’t have anyone who would miss me if I left, other than some of my coworkers, and even then, it’s not really me they would miss. They would miss how hard I work and be pissed if they had to take over my shifts on short notice.

My lease was only for six months, a perk of living near a college—cheap rent in crappy apartments with short-term leasing. With the money he gave me, I could pay off the two remaining months, and if South Carolina didn’t work out, I could come back, find a new job, and pick right back up where I left off. I wouldn’t even have to do much to clean out my fridge. Damn, now I’m a little sad because I’m examining how pitiful and lonely I am.

“They have been waiting for a long time to meet you,” he tells me solemnly.

“I have a lease.” I make a last-ditch effort, even though my resolve disappeared a few minutes ago.

“I’ll take care of it and any other bills you have.” Does he sound too eager?

“I need the option to come back if I want to, with a place to stay.”

“You won’t want to return to this, Miss Devlin, not after meeting your family.” He sounds very sure of himself. “But I will make sure your lease is paid in full for the next year, and I will get you an open-ended ticket if that makes you more comfortable with the arrangement.”

Dang, who knew I was so good at negotiating?

“I’ll give you the night to think it over, Miss Devlin, and deliver your itinerary along with your flight details tomorrow. I’m sure that will give you enough time to get matters in order for your trip.”

Calling it a trip seems easier. I’m not picking up and moving several states away, I’m just going on a trip, a vacation of sorts. “I’ll have to get luggage,” I say out loud, but I’m really speaking to myself.

---