Chapter 27
AURORA
Waking up with the scent of Seven still on my pillow without him here to touch is like a punishment.
I don't remember the end of his story, but it makes sense now, why he cherishes that old jacket and why he'll never get rid of it, no matter how badly it could incriminate him with all the DNA decorating it.
It's the same reason I don't like to take my mother's necklace off. It's the one thing I have from her. The only meaningful thing she ever gave me.
Julian may not have been Seven's father by blood, but he was—he is—in all the ways that matter more than biology.
I curl into my blankets, sighing when my alarm rings and I have to roll over to silence it. Pushing the heels of my palms into my eyes, I glare at the morning light creeping over the ceiling.
Ellie nudges her way into my bedroom, right on schedule. I need to walk her before taking the bus to campus to meet Maisie at the library.
Those essays are due before class on Monday, so my weekend will be spent figuring out how to properly draft my reference list and format the citing throughout the document. Joy.
I should probably also reply to the university wellness advisor. She keeps reaching out to see if I want to schedule a session with her after what happened to my car. She's worried I might be feeling 'unsafe' on campus.
It's laughable. I'll have to let her down easy.
I throw the covers off and flinch. It's got to be cold as balls outside. I can feel it seeping through the walls. Definitely time to turn the heat on.
Ugh. Why did I have to destroy the car? Why the hell did I think that was a good idea?
My eyes burn as Ellie jumps up onto the bed even though she knows better. She sniffs all over the blankets and pillows and I know the little whine in the back of her throat is because she's also missing the owner of the scent she's found there.
"We'll see him again soon," I mutter sleepily, stroking her fur. Too tired to tell her to get down.
And then I remember. Today is the day. And I am wide awake.
Fuck.
I sit up and grab my phone from the nightstand, checking for any missed calls. When I find none, I'm off the bed, digging past the vibrator to the other phone hidden there between the mattress and box spring. But there are no messages waiting for me there either.
Has Atticus's guy at the DNA testing place sent Ambrose the results yet?
My stomach sours, and Ellie whines, sensing my anxiety.
That walk sounds good now. I need some air.
In a rush, I don't bother to do my usual hair and makeup routine, instead throwing the whole mess of my dark hair up into a messy bun and settling for a quick face wash, some moisturizer, and a flick of mascara.
If we hurry, I can walk her to Starbies and get a massive coffee to bring with me to the library.
Something tells me I'm going to need it.
"Come on, let's go, Ellie girl."
When I open the door, I'm slapped in the face with a brisk wind and decide to grab my jacket and gloves from the back of the door, throwing them on as we exit.
I try not to look where I know there is a man sitting behind the wheel of a parked sedan down the street, but as we step onto the sidewalk, Ellie barks, and I look up to find him there, watching me.
Not in the car, but outside it, smoking a cigarette with a long jacket pulled tight around his barrel torso. He looks as surprised to see me as I am to see him, and I get the sense he was hoping he would be done with his cigarette and leg stretch before I left my apartment for class.
In a fit of panic, I wave at him. That's what a normal person would do, right?
"Morning," I say in a choked greeting, and then give Ellie's leash a little tug when she tries to drag me toward him with a growl in the back of her throat. "Don't mind her, she's harmless."
The man nods, but says nothing as I guide Ellie in the opposite direction, away from Ambrose's private investigator.
We set a brisk pace, with Ellie leading the way toward my morning coffee out of habit.
I bring Ellie inside with me to get her out of the cold for a minute, but have her sit and wait by the door while I order. The staff here don't seem to mind since she's so well behaved.
"Caramel latte," I tell the barista. "Extra hot, extra caramel, extra shot of espresso."
"You want the venti again?" she asks.
"Do you have bigger?" I ask hopefully.
She smiles. "I got you."
I've just finished tapping my card when my pocket starts to ring.
"Sorry," I mutter, stepping away from the counter to hurriedly pull off my gloves, unzip my jacket, and dig in my sweater pocket for the phone before it can be sent to voicemail.
But when I see the name on the screen, I'm not sure I can pick it up.
My throat goes dry as I silence its incessant ringing, but it still vibrates in my hand as his name flashes across the screen. Ambrose De La Rosa.
I didn't expect him to call me directly. I thought I'd hear from Linette. Or maybe an email.
I'm not ready.
Maybe I should let it go to voicemail.
It's early. Not even 7:30 in the morning yet. I could pretend I was still asleep.
Except his fucking PI saw me out walking my dog.
I jump when Ellie nudges into my legs, looking up at me with her tail wagging and eyes questioning. If she could speak, I know that look would mean, What is it, Mama?
Voicemail picks up on the screen, and I tap the button to take the call before Ambrose can leave his message.
"Hello?"
"Oh, thought I missed you. It's Ambrose De La Rosa."
"I know," I reply, wandering toward a vacant seat by the window and folding myself into it. "Your name was on the screen."
A small silence. "Right. Yes, well, Linette, of course, passed along your contact information. I hope it's not too early?"
He sounds so eager. Nervous, almost. It makes me want to be sick.
I swallow. "No, it's fine. I was already up walking my dog."
"You have a dog?"
I know he already knows this, but I play along, anyway, even if telling this monster anything about my baby girl makes me want to claw out my own voice box.
"Yes," I reply, unable to keep all the tightness from my tone. "Her name's Ellie."
"Order for Aurora," the barista calls, and Ambrose must hear her because he clears his throat.
"I can hear you're busy, so I don't want to keep you, but I was hoping you'd be open to doing lunch soon."
I gulp, and Ellie sets her chin on my lap.
"Does this mean…" I trail off, absently stroking Ellie's fur.
There's a hollow-sounding laugh on the other end, and then, "I…
Yes. It's good news. The tests came back positive.
I can't really believe it. I've been searching for so long, but I never thought…
Anyway, you are—" His voice chokes off and he coughs to cover the emotion in his tone.
"You're my daughter, Miss Bellerose. It was a ninety-nine point nine percent probability match. There's no doubt."
Even knowing the results are fake, hearing him say the words still hits me like a gut punch.
"Oh my god." The words come out almost unscripted. I don't even have to inject the little waver in my tone. It's there all on its own.
"I know—it's a lot to take in."
"What…what happens now?"
Another hollow laugh. "Well, I'm not entirely sure on that.
I need to meet with my lawyers, but that can happen later.
For now, I'd just like to see you again.
To discuss what next steps should look like.
Which is why I was thinking over lunch…" He trails off hopefully, then adds, "If you're open to it. "
Ellie makes a little sound of discontent on my lap, and yeah, the feeling is mutual. I try really fucking hard to put myself in the shoes of a girl who's learned she has a parent who wants to see her, know her, and form a relationship with her. The sting in my eyes comes after only a few seconds.
"I—I'm not sure if I can convince my dog walker to watch Ellie again on short notice." The words scrape out of my chest, coming out strained and a bit watery. I think it sounds perfect.
"Oh no, no. I'll come to you. It's not a problem. I'm only asking for a few hours of your time. And as it happens, I'm at the airport at the moment. I have some business overseas and won't be back until next weekend. I was thinking, perhaps Sunday?"
As if on cue, I hear a staticky voice come through the receiver. It sounds like it's the pilot telling Ambrose they'll be next on the runway and should be arriving in Nice by dinnertime.
"I should go," he says. "Sunday, then?"
"Okay, yeah," I croak with a sniff for effect, and then let out my own little watery laugh of disbelief.
"Fantastic," he says decidedly. "Shall we say around one o'clock? I'll have Linette work out all the details."
"Sounds good."
"Great," he echoes. "In the meantime, it'll be best not to tell anyone about this. It could draw a lot of unwanted attention your way. I'm…well. I'm a wealthy man. The media would have a field day with this. Best keep it to ourselves until we figure out how to proceed."
"Right."
"Right, then. I'll see you soon."
"See you soon."
I hang up the phone, and a shuddering breath leaves me as a tear falls from my lashes and lands on Ellie's nose.
Quickly, I wipe my face and give my head a shake, trying to cast off the mask that's trying to fuse permanently to my skin.
"Order for Aurora," the barista calls again, and I force myself to get up.
I rush to grab my coffee, but the idea of drinking it now makes my stomach churn.
We need to head back. I have to call the guys and tell them it's happening. They did it. We did it.
Blowing out a long breath, I hightail it back to the apartment with Ellie, glad of the brisk pace, but when I turn onto our street, the first thing I notice is that the sedan from earlier is gone.
But there seems to be a new vehicle that wasn't there before, a few spaces down.
It's a black SUV that looks too shiny among all the older model vehicles belonging to the students and blue-collar citizens living in this apartment block. There are two of them, actually.
I can see another one farther down. Looks like Ambrose upgraded his security.
Trying not to draw attention to the fact that I've seen them, I pretend to have been looking at something else and hurry Ellie to the door, relieved when I can close it behind me and know their eyes can't follow me inside.
I know Atticus said that this was expected, but it still makes me uneasy.
Ambrose will want to know you are exactly who you say you are. And when he's sure of it, he'll want to protect what he thinks is his to protect.
Too hot all at once, I remove Ellie's leash and strip off my boots and jacket, tossing the latter on the ledge between the entryway and kitchen before going to retrieve the phone from the mattress.
Folding myself onto my knees next to the bed, I pull it out, ready to make the call, but I stop when I see the message on the screen from the guys.
Unknown
Don't call. They're listening now.
Fuck.
Goosebumps rise on my skin, and I clench my teeth as the message disintegrates from the screen. The app Atticus has us communicating on is some straight-up spy shit.
I thumb out a reply.
Aurora
Ambrose called me. He got the results from the DNA test. He wants to meet me for lunch here next Sunday.
The reply comes after only a few seconds.
Unknown
Atty says he can make that work. Are you okay?
I know right away it's Elijah texting me.
Aurora
I'm great.
I lie.
Aurora
It worked!
Unknown
Laundry tonight?
Aurora
Is that safe?
Unknown
We're going to find out. Don't come into the office until we knock to give you the all clear. Do your laundry as if we aren't here.
Aurora
K. See you then.
I wait until the messages all vanish and the screen goes dark enough to show my pale reflection.