Chapter Thirty Two
History in Her Bones
S he’s here.
In my house, in my arms, staring up at me with a gummy smile, her chubby little fists tangled in my beard like she remembers me.
My breath is trapped in my lungs, muscles locked tight, but my heart? It’s fuckin’ soaring .
“And here’s the adoption paperwork we talked about,” Ethel says softly, passing me a folder.
“The probate attorney is back in the state. I’ve received all the necessary documentation.
I did a deep dive into the Vernals, and there is no other living family capable of taking her.
So as long as this is still something you want, the paperwork just needs to be filed.
After that, it typically takes a few weeks for final approval.
Could be faster, depending on the judge’s docket.
But you know Romero. He’ll push it through for you if he can. ”
“What about Oakley? Marlee's little sister.” My gaze slides over Aurora's face—a face so much like Marlee's, like Oakley's. “She's eighteen now, I think. Is she still around?”
Ethel's brows furrow, but she nods. “Oakley's nineteen, living in Rydell. But she's not…”
She trails off, adjusting her large wire-rimmed glasses. Her curly, gray-streaked hair is pulled back into a thick braid, a few stray curls escaping around her temples.
“She's what?” I murmur, shifting Aurora against my chest so I can hold the cold teether up to her mouth, ignoring the drool pooling against my fingers.
Ethel smiles softly at us.
“Oakley's not in a position to care for a baby right now, and I didn't feel she was the best choice.” Clicking her tongue, she shakes her head. “You're it for this little one, Kade. Still sure this is what you want?”
I meet Aurora's big brown eyes and my hands instinctively tighten around her.
“Yes.” And I am. “She’s mine.”
Ethel lets out a slow breath and squeezes my shoulder, pushing to stand. “That's what I love to hear. I'll be in touch to check on you in a few days, and I’ll continue to do that until the adoption is final.”
Chuckling, she smooths a hand down Aurora's dark, messy curls. “Honestly, I'll probably still check on this little one well after that, if that's alright with you. She's special.”
“She is,” I rasp, forcing my gaze away from her tiny face scrunched up in concentration as she gnaws on the rubber. “Anything else I need to know?”
Ethel pauses, expression falling. “Actually, yes, but…”
Her gaze slides around the room, finding the playpen I put up after I installed the car seat this morning.
“Maybe we could speak in the kitchen. In private. She may be small, but we never know what they pick up on.”
Nodding, I stand, hardly feeling the throb in my thigh from doing so much around the house today, and quickly move across the living room to the open space between the couch and kitchen.
I laid a soft rug out and put the playpen around it, along with some soft, safe toys, but I still feel sick putting her down.
Still feel worried she’ll get hurt the second she’s out of my arms, but I know this is just the beginning.
Bending, I gently set her down and pass her a bear I bought her a few weeks ago.
She stares up at me and smacks the teether against my cheek, screaming happily.
Smiling, I brush her hair back and stand to my full height, turning to Ethel at the island.
My smile falls at the serious look on her face.
Clearing my throat, I join her and gesture to the coffee pot. “Coffee? Or water?”
“Coffee'll be great,” she says, heaving herself up onto a barstool. “Black, please.”
Nodding, I pour us both a cup, my hands shaking slightly. Inhaling deeply, I pass her the mug and flick my eyes back to check on Aurora, who's waving her bear around and gnawing like it's her damn job.
“What's going on?” I murmur, dragging my attention to Ethel. “Something wrong?”
She sips her coffee slowly and sighs. “I wanted to fill you in on some information I received this past week from the hospital.”
My heart skips, hands clenching on the edge of the counter. “About Aurora? She okay?”
Christ, I feel like I'm going to pass out from all the whiplash.
“Is it the concussion? The accident?” I tug on my hair. “Is she—”
“Kade,” Ethel interrupts, squeezing my hand, “She's okay.
Aurora is fine. Teething like crazy and struggling to sleep through the night, but that's to be expected. She's going through a lot of changes. Missing her parents, I have no doubt. Her life’s changing, and it’s changing fast—something I'm sure you can understand. But she also spent some time in the hospital, had a lot of tests done, and they found some things that sparked…”
She trails off, setting her cup down with a ragged exhale.
“Things that prompted me to dig a bit deeper.”
Nodding slowly, I brace myself, mind whirling, heart hammering, and fuck, I’m surprised my first thought is: I want Georgia here.
Want her at my side, to lean on, to ask for help and support. Just plain want her here.
But she's not. I'm on my own. Signed up to do this on my own, and as of now, that’s where I’m at. Need to learn to be a dad by myself just in case…
Just in case she ends up leaving in a few months.
So I gesture to Ethel to continue and wait for the words I already know are gonna fuck me up.
“Aurora shows some history of abuse,” she says quietly, and my body goes utterly still. “Some minor but telling fractures in her wrist and collarbone, consistent with rough handling. A few small scars. The kind that don’t come from normal childhood bumps.”
My heart skips a beat, room spinning, but I force my legs to hold me up.
“Because of that,” she continues, her tone carefully measured, “I looked deeper into her parents. Marlee Parker-Vernal had a relatively clean record—just a few minor incidents, short-term arrests, but they were from years ago. As I’m sure you know, she had a rough upbringing.
Both her parents died from drug overdoses. ”
She sighs, clicking her tongue softly. “I knew Kim Parker—Marlee’s grandmother. That woman had no business raising anyone, let alone Marlee and Oakley after their own mom passed.”
A beat of silence stretches between us.
“I thought Marlee had escaped the cycle,” she murmurs, fingers tight around her mug. “But from what I found, it looks like she got pulled back in… and it seems to have started around the time she met Travis Vernal. His record paints a very different picture.”
I grit my teeth, listening.
“Travis Vernal had two DUIs in the past five years, both quietly pled down. Several reports of domestic disturbances from neighbors, but none that resulted in charges. A few hospital visits for unexplained injuries to Marlee and Aurora, but nothing concrete. Still, it was enough to raise red flags.”
My hands shake and I grip the counter to keep from punching something.
“That brings me to last week. I received the toxicology report for Aurora's parents the day they passed.” A breath as she meets my gaze. “Travis Vernal was highly intoxicated. Nearly twice the legal limit. Marlee was also drinking, though her levels were lower.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” I rasp, barely holding it together.
Her eyes cloud over and she looks down at her cup before steeling herself and looking back at me.
“There were no skid marks at the accident site, Kade.”
I lose it the only way I can.
Spinning around, I yank at my hair and breathe through the rage clouding my mind. When that doesn’t do a damn thing, I pace, quietly working through the chaos swirling inside me.
My eyes repeatedly slide to Aurora. The need to go to her, pick her up, hold her close and protect her is hard to ignore, but I don’t want her in the middle of this. Never want a single ounce of this… hate to touch her.
“You're saying that piece of shit crashed on purpose?” I whisper-hiss, jerking a finger toward the playpen. “With his baby in the fucking car?”
She holds her hands up but doesn’t seem put off by my reaction. “We don’t know that for sure. Could have been too drunk to see the lines, or fallen asleep at the wheel. We don’t know it was intentional—”
“Nah, fuck that,” I bark, shaking my head. “He got behind the wheel drunk as hell, with his baby in the backseat. He did that shit on purpose. And Marlee…”
I grip the sink and lean over, dry heaving. “She knew. She was there. She was drinking. She knew. ”
Silence hangs between us like smoke, and I hate how long it takes me to pull myself together. Hate that it’s happening now, on a day that was supposed to be filled with love and happiness.
Swallowing hard, I shake the lingering anger from my system, put it away for later, and turn back to the social worker who’s quietly wrecking everything I thought I knew about my ex.
Ethel sighs, her voice softer now. “I know this is a lot to process. But it also explains a lot about why Aurora struggles with certain things. Why she reacts the way she does to loud noises or sudden movements. Why she clings to you the way she does.”
My knees nearly buckle. But I don’t fall. Not with her watching. Not with Aurora watching.
“She won’t have to be afraid anymore,” I say, voice ragged. “Not for a single fucking second. Not with me.”
Ethel nods slowly. “I believe you. And I think she does, too.”
I drag a hand over my face and glance again toward my little girl. And she is mine . Knew it from the second I met her. Maybe it wasn’t like this… this dire need inside me, something almost vicious, to protect and cherish her, but it was solid.
Now… now it’s sure and final.
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” I whisper. “To keep her safe. To give her a new life.”
Ethel stands and pulls me into a hug that smells like lavender and strong coffee. “You're not alone, Kade. Not in this. You have a community around you.” She pulls back, giving me a meaningful look. “Don’t be afraid to lean on those who want to stand by your side. No matter how they came to you.”