Chapter 39

“P lease. Can someone explain to me what’s going on. Why is Abigail the only other person who looks as shocked as I am about this?” Cora pleads with whoever will listen.

After Helen’s sudden reappearance, Logan and Alex ushered me to the rental car with promises to explain once we got to the penthouse. But from the moment Cora, Helen, and Jonathan joined us, no one’s said a word. Jonathan fell into an armchair, bracing his forearms on his knees, but other than that, all he’s done is kept his gaze on Helen, who other than clutching Cora’s hand so tightly her knuckles are white, hasn’t said a word or taken her eyes off Jonathan.

Logan and Alex sit on either side of me, resolutely not making eye contact and I can’t help but agree with Cora. The fact we’re the only two who seem genuinely shocked doesn’t add up. So much for not keeping secrets. At that moment, the lift chimes open and Owen comes rushing in, explaining that his parents are looking after April as he takes a seat on Cora’s other side.

“If someone doesn’t start talking, I’m going to start shooting.” Six pairs of eyes fly to me as I unholster my gun and twirl it between my fingers. Part of my never wanting to be caught off guard again has been making sure I’m armed at all times, whether that be a gun or a knife or something else.

“Hey now, no need for that. Hand me the gun, before you hurt someone.” Alex holds his hands up like he’s trying to soothe a feral animal as I swing my gaze around to him. Logan plucks the gun from my grasp while my attention’s diverted.

Sitting back with a huff, I cross my arms and glare at a spot on the wall. Spoilsports.

“You look just like her.” At Helen’s quietly spoken words, I frown, following her line of vision to my husband.

What the fuck is going on?

“Like who?” Logan’s voice remains level as he looks at Helen, his expression devoid of surprise. Sharing a glance with Cora, it’s clear we’re on the same page—Logan’s been keeping something from us, and while the thought stings, I trust he has a valid reason for it.

“Freya. My baby sister.” Helen’s voice breaks on the name. My eyes snap to Cora’s, wide with shock. It’s clear she’s as stunned as I am. Helen has an entire branch of her family tree filled with liars and backstabbers—and a cousin who just happens to be my husband.

“How...” Cora trails off, clearly struggling to figure out where to even begin.

“It’s complicated and extremely long-winded,” Helen says, her voice fragile and worn. “There’s so much we need to discuss, sweetheart, but can we please leave the heavy stuff for now? I don’t think I can bear to talk about it all right now.”

Her broken tone silences any objections before they can form. Sharing a glance, we let it go—for now.

“How are you feeling?” After the explosive end to an already emotional day, Cora had sequestered herself in her old room at Jonathan’s place with Lily and me. She’s curled up on her side, her head resting in my lap, while Lily sits on the floor painting her toenails.

Lily’s already painted Cora’s a soft baby pink and mine a rich royal blue, and now she’s carefully brushing her own toes with a bold red. I run my fingers through Cora’s hair, the repetitive motion soothing. The room has been steeped in comfortable silence, giving her space to process the whirlwind of emotions, but the need to comfort her pushes me to break the stillness.

“Like just as I got a grasp of things, everything got twisted and corrupted into something I can’t comprehend all over again,” Cora murmurs, her voice fragile in a way I’ve never heard in all our years of friendship. One wrong word and she might shatter.

Sharing a look with Lily, I see my concern reflected in her expression. She screws the lid back onto the nail polish and shifts closer, gently taking Cora’s hand in hers.

“You know you have us in your corner, right? No matter what you need or when you need it. All you have to do is ask, and we’ll drop everything to be here for you. No questions asked,” Lily says, her tone soft but firm. She pauses, squeezing Cora’s hand. “But Cora, take away the obvious pain and suffering your mum must have gone through for a second and focus on this: you have her back. Yes, there will be a lot of healing and tough conversations ahead, but you have your mum back.”

The wonder in Lily’s voice seems to pierce through the haze Cora has been in since Cole’s funeral. With a groan, she squeezes Lily’s hand before letting it go and standing, turning to face us.

“I know,” she says, tilting her chin up and straightening her spine. “You’re right. I need to focus on the positive rather than the negative. So how about we go back out there and face this shit head-on?”

In that moment, she looks every inch the heir to the throne she was born to be, and I couldn’t be prouder. Taking Lily’s hand, I pull her up before linking arms with Cora. Together, we head towards the chaos waiting beyond the door.

There’s strength in numbers, after all.

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