Connor (The Billionaires of Whispers #3)

“Why are we here?” I ask Connor as my stomach growls. “You said we were going to the diner. I’m starving!” With a groan, I jump out of the truck that he has parked up the other end of the street of Rochelle’s, her vegetable soup already calling my name. Not waiting for Connor to open my door, like he always does, his frown tells me he’s not pleased about that fact.

“I have a surprise,” he says, meeting me at the front of the truck.

“Surprise? Don't you think I’ve had enough surprises so far this year?” I ask him, my hand moving automatically to the small scar on my neck, the reminder of what I’ve endured.

It’s been a few months, and we’re doing well. I had to give a lot of police interviews, I’m going to therapy regularly, and I’ve been meditating and doing yoga daily. I still love it, and I now know that yoga is the thing I want to concentrate on, along with our herbal teas. My parents and I have spent a lot of time together, here in Whispers, thanks to Connor, who constantly flies them or me anywhere we want to go as we process and talk through everything. It took a while, but my dad is still my dad, whether or not we share the same blood type.