Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
THORA
The next morning, Mama finds me in the kitchen checking emails and drinking some coffee. I hope Greer didn’t open her mouth and tell her and Daddy about the conversation we had. I think that would make a justifiable excuse for murder.
I purposely skipped breakfast with the family and pretended to be asleep. Thankfully, no one questioned it.
“Did you sleep well?” Mama asks.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“That’s good.” She pats my hand. “I’m actually glad I caught you. I left some handbags and shoes in my closet that I don’t want anymore. Why don’t you take a look and see if there’s anything you want to bring home with you?”
The last thing I need is more shoes, but I don’t want to insult Mama.
“Okay, I’ll go check them out.”
“You do that. I’m going to make more coffee.” She pushes her dark hair away from her shoulders and heads toward the coffee pot.
I make my way upstairs, already knowing I’ll probably end up taking something home. Mama has always had a good sense of fashion. As soon as I enter the walk-in closet, I notice stacks upon stacks of shoeboxes and ten different handbags hanging on a portable rack.
Okay, this is definitely more than I thought.
I start going through everything, finding a few pairs I absolutely love, and after picking three, I move on to the designer bags. My shoulder accidentally bumps into the stack of shoeboxes, and one of them slips.
“Crap!”
I catch the first box before it hits the floor, but the one under it tips forward.
When I grab it, the lid swings open, revealing something that catches my eye.
Beneath the shoes and crumpled tissue, the corner of a paper peeks out.
When I pull it out, I realize it isn’t a piece of paper, but a photo.
Why would Mama put a photo inside a shoebox?
At first, I don’t know what I’m seeing. It’s a little girl, maybe a year old, grinning in the arms of a woman who resembles her.
I keep staring at the child, unable to shake this odd feeling, and the longer I do, the more I realize…
She looks like me.
My parents don’t have many pictures of us as babies. They said there wasn’t much technology back then.
So who is this? And why does she have it hidden?
Turning the photo over, I find a date written on the back in faded ink, along with a name: Penny.
That uneasy feeling in my stomach sharpens when I realize the date matches up to my age, right around when I would have been one. But who’s Penny?
Removing the shoes, I place them on another box and pull back the tissue paper, only to find more photos hidden underneath. More of the same little girl, a boy, another girl a few years older, and some family shots of two couples.
Maybe two different families? I don’t know who they are, but where are my parents? My siblings? What am I looking at?
For a while, I just stare at all of them, trying to wrap my head around it.
Maybe it isn’t me. Maybe it’s a cousin or some old family friend’s baby, and Mama kept the pictures for whatever reason.
I can just ask her and solve this mystery before my mind makes up things that aren’t true.
The photos stay in my hand as I put the shoes back, shove the tissue into place, and set the fallen box on top of it, nerves rolling through me.
When I walk downstairs, Mama is still in the kitchen, rinsing her coffee cup at the sink.
“Mama?”
She turns with an easy smile. “Find anything good?”
I hold up the first photo I found of the woman and child, the other ones firmly in my other hand. “Who are these people?”
Her eyes land on it, and for half a second, she goes completely still before reaching for a dishtowel even though her hands are already dry.
“Where did you find that?” Her words come out calm, but her breath catches at the end.
“It fell from one of your shoeboxes. Who are they?”
“Just old friends.” Setting the towel down, she plays with her fingers, clearly hiding something. “I haven’t seen that in years. Let me look at it, sweetheart.”
I don’t give it to her. “Why am I with them?”
Mama sucks in a breath, her eyes widening a fraction. “You were a baby, honey. Everyone wanted to hold you.”
So it is me.
“You’re lying. Who are they, Mama? And why do you seem scared right now?”
She casts a quick glance toward Daddy’s study, where he’s busy with business.
“Thora, give me the picture.” The urgency in her lowered voice makes the photos feel heavier.
“Not until you tell me the truth.”
Mama scoffs. “You’re being ridiculous. They’re old pictures, that’s all. Old friends. I probably put them there years ago and forgot they even existed.”
“Then why are you acting like I found a body in your closet?”
Her mouth turns into a nervous smile. “Don’t be dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic. I’m asking you a question.”
“And I answered it.”
“No, you didn’t.” My fingers stiffen around the photo as something cold and sick starts to spread through me. “You told me they’re old friends, but you haven’t said who they are.”
Her eyes flash, though she appears more scared than angry. “Because it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“Thora.” She reaches for the photos again, her tone edged with a warning. “Give them to me.”
I take a step back before she can grab them. “No.”
Footsteps sound in the hall, and a second later, Daddy appears in the doorway with Jace and Greer behind him, all three of them staring between us.
“What’s going on?” Daddy peers from Mama to me. “We could hear you from my office.”
I lift the picture before Mama can answer for me. “I was asking Mama who the hell I’m with in these photos, and she keeps lying to me.”
“I am not lying.” Mama’s words crack.
Greer’s face turns white as soon as she sees what I’m holding, while Jace goes still.
“Then tell me who they are.” A cold sense of dread shimmies down my spine.
“They were friends.” She shakes her head at our father. “For some reason, she’s making this into something much bigger than it is.”
Daddy steps farther into the kitchen, his expression changing as he reaches for the photos. “Let me see.”
I hesitate for half a beat before handing it over, and the instant his eyes land on the photos, every bit of warmth drains from his face. My nerves twist as his attention cuts to Mama, and whatever passes between them makes my gut knot up.
A sharp laugh slips out of me. “Are you all going to stare at each other, or does someone actually have the balls to tell me what the hell this is about?”
“Thora…” Jace says.
“No, don’t do that.” I lift photo after photo, showing them to him. “They’re all of me, and none of you are in them. Just me with a bunch of damn strangers. So someone better start talking.”
Mama’s hand goes to her mouth, and the tears in her eyes make mine build. Daddy returns the photos to me before reaching for Mama’s hand, and the second she grips him back, hard enough that her knuckles turn pale, the ground under my feet disappears.
“Please.” Mama turns to Daddy. “Harlan, don’t.”
His teeth clench, accentuating the line of his jaw. “We agreed that if she ever asked, we would tell her the truth.”
Mama’s tears spill over. “She’s never going to forgive us.”
My heart pounds against my ribs, and I grip the counter so I don’t collapse.
Daddy presses his mouth to her knuckles. “That might be the price we have to pay for what we did.”
An ache burns down the back of my throat as Daddy faces me again, his eyes glassing over.
“Why don’t we go into the living room? We can all sit down and talk.”
“I don’t want to sit down.”
Greer slides closer and gently grips my elbow. “Come on, sis. I know you’re upset, but let’s sit down for a minute, okay?”
My head turns toward her, and the pain radiating through her makes the floor feel unsteady. “So you know what this is about too?”
Her lips part, but she doesn’t answer.
I pull my arm free. “This is unbelievable.”
Daddy drags a hand down his face and exhales, but the silence keeps stretching, pressing against my chest until I can barely breathe.
“Can someone just tell me?” The words come out thin, almost broken, as exhaustion etches deep into my bones.
My father nods, and somehow he looks older than he did yesterday. “What I’m about to tell you is going to upset you, and I’m sorry for that, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you. None of us did.”
Tears rush into my eyes, and I curl my fingers into a fist, my nails digging into my palm until the sting gives me something to hold on to. “Just tell me.”
Mama chokes on a small cry.
Daddy looks at her, then back at me. “Many years ago, your mother and I had people working for us. They were good people. Reliable. Quiet. We never had a problem with them until they got greedy and stole from us.”
“What did they steal?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“What they stole isn’t the point, Thora. The point is that they stole from us, and once that happened, they couldn’t be trusted anymore. So they had to pay the price,” he says, his voice rough. “And they did.”
A hand flies to my mouth, because I already know what he’s going to say. My gaze travels from Mama to Jace to Greer, and nausea rolls through me.
This doesn’t shock them. Why would it, though? Blood, people disappearing because they crossed the wrong line…all of it is part of the business to them.
Daddy pinches the bridge of his nose before forcing himself to continue. “I did the job myself.”
He means murder. He should just say it outright instead of calling it a job.
“I was about to leave with my men when we heard a baby crying.”
“Oh my God.” A sob tears out of me. “Please don’t say it.”
Mama presses trembling fingers to her mouth. Daddy’s eyes stay on me as he says the next words that completely destroy me.
“They used to call you Penny. We had your name changed when we adopted you.”
My head spins so hard that Jace slips an arm around me to keep me from falling.
“You adopted me?” A cry slips free. “You mean you stole me from my family.”
“Thora, don’t.” Greer reaches for my hand, but I jerk away from her and Jace at the same time.
“Don’t you fucking tell me ‘don’t.’ How the hell are you okay with this? How did all of you just sit here and lie to me my whole goddamn life?!”
Mama’s tears continue to stream down her face in quiet rivers.
“We didn’t want to put you in the system.
” Daddy leans forward, emotion thickening every syllable.
“They didn’t have any family we knew of, and we didn’t know where you would end up.
Who would take you. What would happen to you.
And after everything that had already happened, we couldn’t do that to you. ”
“You mean after you killed my parents?” A strange laugh rises in my throat. “God, I’m going to be sick.”
My name is Penny. I’m a whole other person.
“My entire life has been a lie.” The tears spill, impossible to stop. “I always felt like I didn’t belong in this family, and now I know why.”
“That’s not true,” Mama cries, rushing over and grabbing my hands. “You belong to us. You’re ours. You are my daughter.”
“I don’t even know who the hell I am.” I sniffle. “I need to go.”
Pulling away from her grasp, I start toward the foyer.
“Thora,” Mama sobs. “Please, baby. I love you. Don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?” I swipe at my face, but the tears keep coming. “Leave? Be angry? Ask questions about the life you stole from me?”
Daddy’s face crumples, but he stays where he is. “Ask whatever you need to ask.”
“What were their names? My parents.”
Mama looks like I slapped her in the face.
“Mara and Wesley Hale,” he answers.
“Did I have grandparents? Aunts? Uncles? Brothers or sisters? Anyone?” The words stick in my throat.
“As far as we knew, there weren’t any other children. They didn’t even tell us about you, so they were private about those things, but there was no one else at the house. I saw those photos of you in an album, so I took them.”
My vision blurs at the edges as I blink, trying to process it all. “I’m going upstairs to get my things, and none of you better follow me.”
Mama cries harder, and all I want is to hold her.
But who’s going to hold me? Who’s going to make this shit better for me?
They kidnapped me and kept it hidden. How the hell do I look past that and forgive them?
“She needs time,” Daddy tells Mama, though his eyes stay on me. “Anyone would. Do what you have to do, but at least tell us where you are so we know you’re safe.”
“Fine.”
Jace steps forward, his face pale. “Thora, nothing changes for us. You’re still our sister. You understand that, right?”
I look at him, then at Greer, then at Mama and Daddy. There are so many things I could say, but every single one of them gets trapped in my throat.
Nothing changes for them. But everything has changed for me. I don’t know who I am anymore, where I belong, who I was before they decided I should be someone else.
I’m not a Whitlock. Hell, I’m not even Thora. I’m goddamn Penny.
Without answering, I turn and march upstairs, each step heavier than the last, and when I reach my room, I lock the door behind me before grabbing the luggage sitting in the corner and shoving clothes into it with shaky hands.
By the time I’m done, I sink onto the edge of the bed, barely holding myself together while my phone sits heavy in my pocket. When I pull it out, I know exactly who I need. The only man who has ever made me feel safe in a life that suddenly turned into a lie.
Anton.