Chapter 20
“I’m telling you, these people are strange.” Jeremy shook his head. “And that is coming from me, and we are strange.”
Stephen pursed his lips. “I wouldn’t say we’re overtly strange. I mean, you have to know us to notice the weird. We hide our oddness, our secret creature we keep in the closet.”
Kit drummed his fingers on the table and I sort of followed the conversation, but I mostly watched Dina. She seemed really quiet, only answered when they spoke to her, and her skin had gone even paler than before.
“Are you okay?” I finally asked, and she met my question with kind eyes.
“I am always fine, my darling. Yes, I’m good. Thank you for checking. I’m just taking everything in tonight.”
Rosalind glanced our way and frowned, but otherwise, as we waited for the bill, the conversation flowed as normal.
My stomach practically hurt, I ate so much, but the food was amazing.
I particularly enjoyed my chicken, but the soup was a little bit spicy for me.
I didn’t dare complain even a little, though, knowing it was a magical place to the brothers—the place of birthdays, and no fighting.
“Who was it again?” Kit asked as he handed the bill to Daniel, who pulled out his wallet.
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Thanks for listening.”
“I have a million things on my mind right now, Birthday Boy.”
“Fine.” Jer laughed. “Murial Monk. You must know the family. They are exactly the people you all want to know all the time.”
The oldest of their fathers lifted his eyebrows. “Murial Monk took you and Alatheia on a backstage tour of the Met?” Daniel and Stephen both shot him a look, then laser focused on me. Even Eric seemed to pay attention, and he was the quietest of all of them.
Jer squeezed my fingers. “She did. They’re weird.”
“You need to be careful around them.” He stared at me as he said it, as if to impart some hidden meaning I totally didn’t get.
Phoenix cleared his throat. “Is there some reason Alatheia should warrant more caution or are you worried in general, because of the type of people Murial’s family is?
He didn’t clarify, leaving it at, “Just be careful.”
I’d never seen Kit squirm before, but bringing up the Monks left him positively twitching in his seat.
We all left together, and my fists clenched by my sides. The thought of my silly cake made my stomach clench, too, so I turned around to address all of them.
“I’ve never made a cake before. I…I hope it’s not terrible,” I admitted, thinking at least I warned them.
Rosalind slipped her arm around me, giving my shoulders a comforting squeeze. “Don’t be silly, it’ll be wonderful. Thank you for baking for the boys.”
Dina smiled. “I’m tired tonight. I didn’t sleep well last night, so I’ll stop by tomorrow for a piece. I’ll say goodnight for now, my darlings.” She waved her hand as a car pulled up next to her, but she regularly had that kind of timing. I loved it for her.
They all waved their goodbyes, but I stood back and watched them.
I couldn’t believe no one said anything about how pale she looked, or worried because she got tired so easily.
She was in her seventies, and she said she was tired.
Maybe it was normal? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t a doctor, but she looked off to me.
Not that I could check on her. Rosalind kept her arm around me, so I forgot about Dina in favor of my fears of Rosalind.
Ultimately, the cake turned out fine. The guys liked it, wolfing down their slices in a couple of bites.
Julian grinned the whole time, while Jeremy ate two pieces, which was great.
I wanted them to enjoy their birthday. Everyone sang to them and a memory rushed through me of when I was young.
My mom used to make me a cake then light candles and sing.
I remembered her, so joyful about me being her daughter and a year older, and I couldn’t help but smile.
But the smile faded slowly, because I realized how long it had been since I’d thought of her at all.
Funny, memories and how they worked.
But the cake was just okay, not great. I thought I could do better, and already had ideas for my second attempt.
After we ate, Kit indicated we would talk in the living room, so people grabbed drinks and headed that direction.
I sat down, my palms sweaty, and tried to stuff them in my lap so no one would notice how my hands shook.
I could play denial with the best of them, but Kit would—finally—reveal what was in that folder.
Rosalind sat on the arm of his chair, her hand on his shoulder obviously meant as a comfort to him. I wondered abruptly if it would be really bad, and a spike of fear iced my veins.
Phoenix jumped up then snuggled close next to me. I hugged him back wondering if he somehow sensed I was starting to panic? I would bet he noticed somehow. Phoenix, like me, was accustomed to receiving bad news.
“I’ll get right to it. The birth certificate they have for you is a fraud. It’s not your birth certificate, or anyone’s legal record.”
Kit steepled his hands as if it was a business meeting and he hadn’t just crushed my world.
“What?” I sputtered.
He nodded. “I know this probably sounds shocking and odd. On their document, it names you, Alatheia Winder, daughter of Delphine Stapleton Winder and Peter Lucas Winder. The thing is, the document doesn’t exist. The certificate number is fabricated, even the seal on it is faked.
We searched for your real birth certificate, but so far, we came up empty. ”
I shook my head. I couldn’t even focus on what anyone else was saying right then, my gaze glued to Kit. “But I exist. I’m here.”
He nodded. “I understand it’s shocking news. But we do know you’re here.”
“Kit. ” Rosalind squeezed his shoulder. “Gentle. She isn’t a client. She is their love. Come on—less lawyer, more father.”
He took a deep breath, blowing it out while looking into her eyes.
“Sorry, bad habit. You’re right, you are here, but you weren’t born in Colorado, at least not on that day or where they said it happened.
There’s no record of it. You could have been a home birth, which they never recorded, but why bother to create the fake?
I don’t know, like I said, and we’re still looking into it.
I can’t think of anyone who would benefit from your birth certificate being falsified. ”
I caught my breath. “My mother’s maiden name wasn’t Stapleton. I mean…that is my Uncle’s last name, but she always said her maiden name was Faust. Why didn’t I ever think about this before?”
Barrett met my gaze. “Because you were eleven when she died, and how would you have even researched it on your own?”
“I’m not eleven anymore,” I pointed out, jerking my chin up in false bravado. “I must be wrong. Stapleton is the family name.”
Kit shook his head. “Don’t worry so much about names. You’ve been through a lot. If you weren’t interesting, that file would’ve been thin and boring. Old grades. Vaccine records. Did you know they have a picture of your mom and her sister together smiling? Do you want it?”
My mother, yes. My aunt? No. I nodded. “Sure. Thank you.”
“I’ll bring it down tomorrow. I know this is a lot.
We will get to the bottom of it. The situation is just going to take some work.
I’m hiring an investigator to look into your past. He’ll start in Colorado and go from there.
We’ll get ahead of this. In the meantime, I have the fake.
It’s good enough for you to open a bank account or whatever with it.
I doubt very much anyone else is going to do this close of a look-see. ”
Jer winced. “Look-see.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Kit blinked.
“Little cringe, Kit. Little cringe.”
Phoenix kissed my temple and whispered, “We can make the Poor Relation pay for you now. A bank account. Get you some independence that we don’t care about you needing but you do.”
He was right. I smiled at him.
“Why would they do this?” I asked, hoping anyone could miraculously pull the answer out of the air.
Kit shook his head. “I don’t want to speculate.”
“I think your family was hiding you, ” Stephen answered.
“I mean obviously I don’t know but I asked myself, why would I procure a birth certificate for you that was obviously fake?
I think that the one that you really have out there somewhere is fake too.
I think your mother used another name. Your father called himself Winder.
That’s not his real name either. And when your family got ahold of you it was important they have something to make it clear you were who they wanted you to be. That’s what I think.”
That made the most sense of anything. I had nothing but questions, but the Lents were good at managing my expectations. They spent six years not knowing who took Phoenix and killed the other kids. So…I didn’t know, and they didn’t know, and together we were just a bunch of unanswered questions.
Jeremy stayed quiet. I glanced up at him, asking, “Are you okay? Are we getting on a boat? What’s happening?”
“Yes and yes. I’m more concerned about you than anything else. I hope you find it fun and distracting, as that’s the goal.”
He nodded toward a man who stood by a boat ramp and we stepped together onto the yacht. “Is this yours?”
“Eric’s,” he replied and smiled. “But tonight, it’s ours. A nighttime cruise on the Hudson, a ride up and down the river. We can be alone out here on the water. I’m glad you brought your sweater, but I’ll give you my sweatshirt, if you need it.”
As he spoke, the boat started to move. I glanced around, but they remained an invisible captain and a crew. Jeremy took my hand and led me up the stairs, so we stood on the top deck of a boat. “If you drank, I would give you some champagne, but for tonight, we’ll stick with lemonade.”