Chapter 46

Abigail

The house was too quiet. The kind of quiet that made your skin prickle and your thoughts grow louder than they should be.

I sat cross-legged on the thick carpet of my bedroom, staring at the ceiling, my fingers twisting a strand of my hair over and over again. Then I heard the glass frame crash and before I could stop myself, I was spying down the railing on Alexander and mom.

She was looking at him in a way I didn’t recognize, but knew was some kind of love. Her eyes only did that when she cared.

“We’re leaving.”

After she said then, I crawled back to my room, quiet as a mouse. Shutting my door, my back pressed to the wood.

I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him—Alexander. But how could I not? Every time he shows up, it felt like the air changed, like everything tilted just a little.

He’d have saved me and it felt…right.

And every time he looked at me, there was this strange pull in my chest, like I was a kite and he held the string. But mommy said it was complicated. Grown-up stuff. Stuff I wasn’t supposed to understand.

Well, I understood enough. And I wasn’t going to just let him go without knowing the truth.

We couldn’t leave, not yet.

I grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. There was only one person I could trust with something like this. I slipped out of my window and scaled down the vines with ease, my shoes squishing as I took off over the grass.

I knew Owen lived in a mansion, but I never imagined it was this big. But despite it’s size and the guards, it wasn’t hard to get in. Or pick up Owen’s scent, or find his room.

His massive wooden door was slightly ajar, and I could hear the soft sound of keys clacking from a laptop inside.

“Owen,” I whispered, pushing the door open just enough to peek my head inside. He was sprawled on his bed, laptop in his lap, his face lit up by the glow of the screen. “I need your help.”

His hands froze, his eyes landing on me stiffly. I expected him to be more surprised, but it was like he had known I was coming. Maybe, he’d pick up my scent first.

“Is this about that math homework you’re pretending you don’t understand again?” He asked low, his deadpan humor causing my eyes to roll.

“No,” I said, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind me. “It’s serious.”

That got his attention. He closed his laptop sat up, his messy dark hair sticking up in every direction. “Serious how? Like you almost dying serious? How are you feeling by the way?”

I hesitated, chewing on my bottom lip, ignoring his jab. This was a huge risk. But Owen was the only one who might understand. “It’s about Alexander,” I said finally.

Owen raised an eyebrow. “My dad?”

I nodded, “Yeah, the guy who always looks like he’s about to punch someone unless he is looking at my mommy.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “He’s not like that. He’s just… intense. But… what about him?”

I took a deep breath, unsure how else to say it. “I think he might be my dad too.”

Owen’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking over me. “So, that means we’re—”

“Shh!” I hissed, glancing at the door. “Keep your voice down!”

He leaned in closer, his eyes wide. “Are you serious right now, no take backs?”

I nodded. “My ma and Liam… they’re not really a couple. They’re just pretending. And Alexander… there’s something about the way he looks at me. I think he knows, or maybe he doesn’t. But I have to find out for sure.”

Owen stared at me for a long moment, then a grin spread across his face. “But if Dr. Ava— er, Lauren, is my ‘mom’ and you think Alexander’s your ‘dad,’ then we’re—”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Yeah.” I stopped in front of his bed, our eyes locking. The silence between us was thick, charged with the weight of the words we’d just said.

The uncertainty hung in the air, but something else was there too. Something that felt like the ground shifting beneath us. I couldn’t quite put it into words, but I knew—this had to happen.

“Okay.” I nodded, holding out my fist for him to bump, which he did. “Here’s the plan.”

Sneaking into Alexander’s room was easier than I thought it would be. He wasn’t home, and the housekeeper had just finished cleaning, so everything was neat and untouched. Owen and I tiptoed inside, the plush carpet muffling our footsteps.

“This feels wrong,” Owen whispered, glancing around. “Like, really wrong.”

“It’ll be fine,” I whispered back, pulling at my backpack. “We just need a hair sample. Like before. We’ll get mine, and we’ll send them for a DNA test. The adults do it all the time, how hard can it be?”

Owen crossed his arms. “And how exactly are you supposed to pay for a DNA test? Those things aren’t cheap.”

I pulled out a crumpled envelope from my pocket. “I’ve been saving up my allowance.”

He gave me a look but didn’t argue. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

I carefully searched Alexander’s desk, looking for a stray hair. There was nothing. Finally, Owen pointed to the back of the chair. Sure enough, a single dark strand was caught in the fabric.

“Got it,” I said, carefully placing the hair in a plastic bag.

“If this turns out true, does that make us twins or?” Owen said, holding the plastic bag.

I hesitated, then snipped a tiny piece of my hair and added it to the bag. “I don’t know? If we are, I’m defiantly older.”

Owen frowned, “No way”

“Shh!” I smirked, “Now we just have to send it in.”

The next week felt like the longest of my life. Every day, I checked the mailbox, my heart racing every time I saw the mail truck pull up. Finally, the envelope arrived. I tore it open as soon as I snuck out to Owen’s room again, my hands shaking, and stared at the results.

“It’s him,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Owen leaned over my shoulder, reading the paper. “Whoa… so we really are siblings?”

I nodded, my mind racing. “We have to tell him.”

Owen frowned. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? He might freak out.”

“He deserves to know,” I said firmly. “And I deserve a dad. But I… I don’t know how to tell him.”

Owen thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “We’ll leave it in his study. He’ll find it when he’s going through his papers.”

It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was better than nothing. We slipped into Alexander’s study later that evening, carefully placing the report on his desk where he couldn’t miss it.

Owen

The next morning, I sat on the stairs, waiting for some sign that he’d found it. But instead of hearing him call for me, for anyone after I had place it, I saw the housekeeper carrying a stack of papers out of his study.

“Wait,” I said, running down the stairs. “What are you doing?”

She smiled at me. “Just cleaning up. Mr. Alexander’s study was a bit cluttered.”

My heart sank as I watched her toss the stack of papers into the trash. Among them, I saw the envelope with the DNA results.

I was on the phone with Abigail in moments, sharing our disappointment.

“Well,” I said with a sigh. “That didn’t go as planned.”

I could hear her near tears on the other line. “We’ll figure out another way. We have to.”

I nodded. “Yeah. We’re not giving up.”

As the housekeeper carried the trash out the door, I made a silent promise to myself. Alexander would know the truth, one way or another. I just had to be brave enough to tell him. Or maybe she would be.

And maybe, just maybe, he’d want to be our dad after all.

Besides, I always wanted a sister.