Chapter 31
Kane
Declan stiffens beside me as we approach the steps. I’m too busy explaining who Connor and Mia are to Kori to notice at first, but then I catch the change in his posture, the sudden alertness in his stance.
“Connor,” Declan calls out, his voice carrying a note of concern I rarely hear from him. “What’s wrong?”
Connor doesn’t answer. His face is drawn, pale beneath his usually ruddy complexion. Mia reaches for his hand, squeezing it in what looks like silent support. Then, without a word, Connor steps aside.
A man I’ve never seen before moves forward from the shadows of the doorway. He’s tall, slim, with silver hair and wire-rimmed glasses that catch the sunlight. In his hands, he cradles what is unmistakably an urn—polished bronze with Celtic knotwork etched into its surface.
My stomach drops. The world seems to tilt beneath my feet.
“Who are you?” Declan demands, already moving up the steps. “What is this?”
The man clears his throat, his eyes moving over each of us before settling on me. “My name is Dr. Malcolm Reid. I was Tomas MacGallan’s physician for the last fifteen years of his life.”
“Last fifteen—” Kat begins, but falls silent as the implication sinks in.
Dr. Reid’s expression is gentle but firm. “I’m afraid I’m the bearer of difficult news. Tomas MacGallan passed away a year ago.”
“That’s impossible,” I hear myself say, the words sounding distant, as if spoken by someone else. “We just found clues he left. He’s waiting for us in Alberta.”
Kori’s hand tightens around mine, anchoring me as the doctor continues.
“I understand your confusion. Perhaps we should go inside? This is a conversation best had sitting down.”
Declan looks at Connor. “Is this true?”
Connor nodded. “I took him to Dr. Reid regularly.”
We follow him into the grand foyer, a space I’ve always found oppressively formal. Connor and Mia lead us to the library—all dark wood and leather-bound books that smell of history and privilege. The urn sits on the coffee table between us, a silent presence that commands the room.
“Tomas did have dementia,” Dr. Reid begins once we’re all seated. “Advanced Alzheimer’s, in fact. He was diagnosed shortly after his seventy-fifth birthday, though the symptoms had been present for some time before that.”
“We know that part,” Declan says, his voice tight. “What we don’t understand is how he could be dead when we’ve been following clues he left across Ireland.”
Dr. Reid nods, removing his glasses to clean them with a handkerchief—a gesture that seems designed to give him time to choose his words carefully.
“The clues were indeed left by Tomas, but not recently. He prepared everything years ago, in his lucid moments, when he knew what was coming.” The doctor replaces his glasses and looks directly at me now.
“He asked me to implement his plan after his death. To set the treasure hunt in motion when the time was right.”
“Why?” I demand, anger bubbling up alongside confusion. “Why the elaborate game?”
“Because he knew none of you would believe the truth otherwise,” Dr. Reid says. “Particularly about Ella.”
Ella. My sister. The phantom we’ve been chasing across continents.
“What about her?” I ask, dreading the answer.
Dr. Reid sighs. “There is no Ella, Mr. MacGallan. At least, not as you’ve been led to believe.”
The room goes silent. I feel Kori shift closer to me on the sofa, her presence the only thing keeping me from exploding.
“That’s bullshit,” Declan says flatly. “We found documents. Photos.”
“Fabricated,” Dr. Reid admits. “All part of Tomas’s plan.”
“Why would he do that?” Wren asks, her voice sharp with suspicion. “What possible reason could he have for inventing a daughter?”
Dr. Reid looks pained. “To bring you all together. To force you to work as a family one last time.” He turns to me again. “And to reveal the truth about your parentage, Kane. That part was real. Tomas was indeed your biological father.”
I stare at the urn, trying to process this. My father is dead. Has been dead for two years. The sister I never knew but had begun to imagine meeting—she doesn’t exist at all.
“So, there’s no ranch in Alberta?” Kori asks quietly beside me.
“The coordinates are real,” Dr. Reid says. “But what you’ll find there isn’t Tomas and Ella. It’s the final piece of his legacy. For all of you.”
“This is insane,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “He put us through all this—sent us chasing ghosts across two continents—for what? A fucking family bonding exercise?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Dr. Reid acknowledges. “Though there was more to it than that.”
“Like what?” Kat demands.
“The Russians, for one. That part of the story was true. Tomas did have enemies in Moscow—powerful ones who remained a threat until quite recently.”
“So, he invented a daughter they’d be looking for,” Rory says slowly, putting it together. “A decoy.”
Dr. Reid nods. “Precisely. While they were searching for a woman who didn’t exist, they weren’t looking too closely at his real children.”
I stand abruptly, unable to sit still any longer. “This is fucked up. All of it.” I pace to the window, staring out at the manicured grounds without really seeing them. “He lied to us. Again. From beyond the grave.”
“He did what he thought was necessary to protect you,” Dr. Reid says quietly.
I whirl around. “Necessary? Was it necessary to make me believe I had a sister out there somewhere? To get my hopes up about meeting her. About finally having answers?”
“Kane,” Declan says, his voice surprisingly gentle. “Sit down. Let’s hear him out.”
I want to refuse, to storm out, to put as much distance as possible between myself and this fresh betrayal. But Kori is watching me, her eyes steady and understanding. For her sake, I return to my seat, though every muscle in my body is tense with the need to flee.
“There’s one more thing,” Dr. Reid says, reaching into his jacket to withdraw an envelope. “A letter from Tomas. To be read only when you all have learned the truth.”
He hands it to Declan, who stares at it for a long moment before breaking the seal.
‘To my children,’ Declan reads aloud, his voice steady though I can see the slight tremor in his hands. ‘If you’re reading this, then Malcolm has told you the truth. I am gone, and there is no Ella. I apologize for the deception, but not for the journey it has taken you on.’
Declan pauses, clearing his throat before continuing.
‘Kane, I know the revelation of your parentage must have come as a shock. I wish I could have told you myself, face to face, but my illness progressed too quickly. Know that I loved your mother deeply, and that giving you up was the hardest choice I ever made. I hope you can forgive me someday. Declan, you have always been the rock of this family, carrying burdens that should never have been yours to bear. It’s time to share that load.
Your siblings need you, but you need them too.
Kat, my fearless daughter, you’ve spent so long running from your name, from your legacy.
I hope this journey has shown you that being a MacGallan doesn’t have to define you—you define what it means to be a MacGallan.
Connor, my youngest son, you cared for me when I couldn’t care for myself, showed me dignity when my mind betrayed me.
Your compassion is your greatest strength.
I entrust to you the stewardship of our family legacy, not because you are my son, but because you’ve earned it through loyalty and love. ’
I glance at Connor, seeing him blink rapidly as tears form in his eyes.
Mia wraps her arm around his shoulders, pulling him close as he struggles to maintain composure.
Despite everything, I feel a pang of connection with him—another son who never knew his proper place in the family until it was too late.
Declan continues reading, his voice growing thicker with each line:
‘The coordinates I’ve left you will lead to something I hope will bring you all together one last time—not in pursuit of ghosts, but in celebration of what remains.
My final gift to you all. I regret many things in my life, but creating each of you is not among them.
Be better than I was. Be stronger together than you ever were apart.
With eternal love, your father, Tomas MacGallan.”
The room falls silent as Declan folds the letter. I stare at the urn on the table—all that remains of the man who fathered me, who abandoned me, who manipulated me even from beyond the grave.
“So, we’re supposed to just... what? Go to Alberta for some big reveal?” I finally say, my voice harsh in the quiet room. “Follow one more breadcrumb in his sick game?”
“Kane,” Connor speaks for the first time, his voice steady despite the emotion visible on his face. “I know this is hard to accept. I spent years caring for him, watching his mind slip away piece by piece. But in his lucid moments... he talked about you. All of you. With love.”
“Love?” I laugh bitterly. “Is that what you call this?”
Connor meets my eyes, unflinching. “He was flawed. Deeply so. But he wanted to make amends in the only way he knew how.”
I look away, unable to bear the sincerity in his gaze.
Connor, who ran the household after his mother, the original housekeeper, passed away.
When the old man passed away, the first time was when Connor found out he was just another bastard like me.
At least he had time with our father, even if it was during Tomas’s decline.
All I got was this elaborate posthumous scavenger hunt.
“What exactly is in Alberta?” Kat asks, breaking the tense silence.
Dr. Reid shakes his head. “I don’t know the details. Only Tomas arranged everything before his death. The property is held in trust, waiting for your arrival.”
“I say we go,” Declan decides, pocketing the letter. “One last trip. For closure, if nothing else.”
I want to argue, to refuse this final manipulation, but I’m suddenly exhausted. The emotional whiplash of the past weeks—discovering my true parentage, chasing a sister who never existed, kissing Kori, confronting her husband, and now learning my father is dead—has left me hollow.
“Kane?” Kori’s voice is soft beside me. “What do you want to do?”
I look at her—really look at her. The woman who boarded a plane to escape her own pain and somehow got tangled up in mine. Who’s stood by me through every bizarre twist in this family saga. Who makes me feel grounded when everything else is chaos?
“I want...” I begin, not entirely sure how to finish that sentence. What do I want? Answers? Peace? A future that isn’t shadowed by the past? “I want to understand why. Why all of this? And I don’t think I’ll get that unless we go to Alberta.”
Kori nods, her hand finding mine. “Then we go.”
“We leave tomorrow,” Declan says, always the commander. “Dr. Reid, will you join us?”
The doctor shakes his head. “My role was to deliver the truth and Tomas’s remains. What you do with both is up to you now.”
I stare at the urn again, this small container that holds what’s left of a man I never really knew. My father. The architect of this elaborate deception that brought us all together, that brought Kori into my life.
“What do we do with...” I gesture toward the urn, unable to finish the question.
“That’s part of the Alberta plan, I believe,” Dr. Reid says gently. “Tomas had precise wishes about his final resting place.”
Of course he did—one last command from beyond the grave.
As the others discuss logistics for tomorrow’s journey, I slip away, needing space, air, distance from this new reality. Kori follows me without a word, her presence a silent comfort as we step onto the terrace overlooking the estate grounds.
“I’m sorry,” she says when we’re alone.
“For what? You didn’t create a fake sister or die without telling me.”
“I’m sorry you’re hurting,” she clarifies. “I know what it’s like to have hope dangled in front of you, only to have it yanked away.”
I lean against the stone balustrade, feeling the cool granite beneath my palms. “I don’t even know what I’m mourning. A father I never really knew. A sister who never existed. The answers I thought I was going to get?”
“All of it, probably,” Kori says, joining me at the railing. “Grief isn’t linear or logical.”
“How are you so calm about all this?” I ask, studying her profile as she gazes out at the rolling lawns. “First, your husband shows up, now this. It’s like we’re living in some bizarre soap opera.”
She smiles faintly. “Maybe I’m in shock. Or maybe after everything with Mark and Lana, my capacity for surprise is just... maxed out.”
I reach for her hand, needing the connection. “You can still back out, you know. Go home, deal with your divorce, rebuild your life without all this MacGallan madness.”
“Is that what you want?” she asks, turning to face me fully. “For me to go?”
“No,” I admit, the word coming easily. “I want you with me. Through whatever happens next.”
“Then that’s where I’ll be.” She says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I pull her closer, wrapping my arms around her waist as she rests her head against my chest. We stand like that for a long time, watching the sun begin its descent toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the grounds of a legacy I’m only beginning to understand.
Tomorrow, we go to Alberta, to face whatever final surprise my father has arranged for us. But tonight, I hold Kori and let myself believe that maybe—just maybe—something good can come from all this deception and loss.
Something real.