Page 138 of Retribution

“Just, just trust him. Okay? Tell him your problem and watch him work his magic.” Ever leans forward as Devon continues to look at me with a blank expression.

Exhaling, I rub a hand through my stubble and begin to tell them all about Willow and Dubai.

* * *

It was difficult to organize the route to Dubai from here, the actual end to end journey is around sixteen hours. Our jet can hold about up to six hours worth of fuel, meaning were going to have to refuel at least three times, prolonging our journey.

The pilots had to plan an entirely different route to the usual because people normally fly commercial to somewhere as far as Dubai, but I need to be off the radar.

The Dawson’s probably have someone scanning every flight index for our names so that we can’t hijack their plans to ‘kidnap’ my daughter.

“Reed, honey.” Her gentle voice laps at my ears, my heart skipping a beat.

“Yeah, baby?” I turn to her and admire the woman standing before me.

She’s dressed in a pair of mom jeans and a cropped sweatshirt. Her hair is pulled back into a pony, her travel case at her side.

She walks into the office, her demeanor different to her chirpy one this morning. I rush to her side, anxiety clawing at me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her, dying to know the answer.

“I have something to tell you, and I don’t want you to be mad until you hear my full story.”

I gulp and nod.

Whatever she is going to say isn’t going to compare to anything else we’ve been through lately.

“When we lost custody of Willow, I was distraught, I didn’t know what to do with the news. And that she wasn’t biologically yours.”

My throat dries with those words, it’ll never get easier to hear them.

“I did what I think any other person would do. You know, like get a second opinion.” She fiddles with her hands as she looks down at the floor.

“I went behind your back and used hair from Willow’s brush and I swabbed your mouth while you slept,” she admits.

I don’t feel any sort of anger towards her, if anything I feel glad, she could find the confirmation she needed to help process the news.

“I just wanted to see it for myself, you know?” I nod and pull her in for a cuddle, resting my chin on the top of her head.

She melts into me and hugs me tighter.

As she pulls away, she looks up at me and her eyes are watery.

“She’s yours, Reed. She’s biologically your daughter.”

I allow her to continue.

“I got the results this morning, by email. I can show you them if you’d like,” my heart races, knowing that she did this for me.

My eyes read through the document, and I come across the all too familiar looking page.

Probability of Paternity: 99.9998%

“This means…”

“They fabricated the report,” she finishes for me.

Willow Breckenridge is my daughter, but little does Indie know, I’ve known for the past few hours also.

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