Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Oliver rubs his face with his bandaged hands. He’s looking between Nova and Phoebe, but the triplets stay strong. They don’t console their mom. They leave that to her friend.
“Who is Trevor?” I ask them, when really, inside I’m screaming, Where is Trevor?! He’s still not here.
Fear stabs me, but I can’t desert the storm shelter. I can’t abandon them right now.
“And let me remind you,” I tell the three of them, “whatever you say next, it needs to be the truth. Because Hailey has done enough research to find holes, and if you even have a fucking pinhole, she will know. And we will know. And you will have no chance to ever reconcile with us. We will never believe or trust you again. We won’t work with you. Hell, we won’t even talk to you. It will be a long, permanent goodbye.”
Elizabeth stays knelt on the floor while Addison has an arm around her.
Everett starts, “We were given Trevor.”
“In a way,” Addison clarifies poorly.
“In a way?” I shoot back. “What the fuck does that mean? In a way?”
Addison rises to her feet, but she’s unbalanced on her heels. She’s nervous. She even smooths out her dress—which is her anxious tic. “He’s the son of a mark.”
“Of a mark?”
“Of billionaires. Awful, terrible people.” She grimaces even recounting them. “This couple—they were so deep inside their own self-centered world, they couldn’t bother to be around for the birth of their own child.”
“They took a vacation to Tahiti,” Everett says from the wall, his arms crossed. “While their surrogate was in labor.”
“For nine hours,” Addison snaps. “When Trevor was born, Everett and I paid the surrogate for the child. She believed we’d care for him more than the couple.”
“She believed that, huh?” I nod strongly. “You tell her you’re grifters? You tell her you’d raise that boy to nab wallets? Or that he’d be your little shill—a way for you to gain credibility wherever you went? Cute little Trevor. No way am I screwing you over if a baby is on my hip.”
Addison stakes a glare my way. “Judge me. But you weren’t there. You didn’t see their aversion and apathy toward anyone marginally less privileged than them. They didn’t care for their surrogate. They saw her as subhuman. She felt that. It’s why she called to let them know the child passed during birth. Do you want to know what they did? Hearing that their newborn died?”
Elizabeth’s tears have dried. She winces at the memory. “They extended their vacation.”
My brother.
He was born out of neglect. And all he’s ever desired is to be included.
“We love Trevor,” Addison professes. “We care for him in ways they never would. He would’ve been a forgotten child, or worse, he’d have turned out just like the men we target. Vile, cruel, and so blinded by their own vanity, they leave despair in their wake.”
I look through her. “You didn’t save him. You chose him. How many marks have kids? How many have we run by that you could’ve so easily robbed out of their cradles or convinced the parents to hand them over like you’re a divine fucking saint? Trevor was different, though, wasn’t he?”
“Of course he was different,” Everett says from the wall. “He’s six years younger than you all.”
“At that time, we wanted a baby,” Addison says like it’s simple.
“Get pregnant. Adopt. I don’t know, do it the normal way.”
“The opportunity presented itself.”
“Right.”
She hears my skepticism and takes a sharper breath. “Jobs are easier with a child. We realized that really early into having you, Bray. But you all…you were getting older. I personally thought if the baby had gray eyes like yours, if you believed I was pregnant, it’d be easier on you and Hailey. You wouldn’t question where you came from.”
“This is your family,” Everett says. “That’s all that mattered to us. The ones we built. Tinrocks. Graveses.”
“What about Hailey?” Phoebe asks, my sister’s head still in her lap.
Hailey stares dazedly. Silent tears leak out of her eyes.
“Hailey.” Addison bends forward again. “Hailey, look at me.”
Hailey blinks a slow, slow blink. “ ‘Have I gone mad?’ ” she whispers.
“ ‘All the best people are,’ ” Oliver replies with light in his voice, and gradually, my sister focuses on Addison.
“Hailey,” Addison says carefully, afraid to spook her. “I love you. I love you so dearly, and you came into our lives with so much love. You came after the triplets. I never met your birth parents. Everett and I posed as a lovely couple from the suburbs, and we found you.”
“Where?” Steadily, Hailey sits up, then more weakly leans into Phoebe, who curls her arms around my sister’s slender frame.
“The foster system.”
“We adopted you under fake names,” Everett says gently to her.
“Because of my eyes,” she says distantly.
“And because…” Addison gets teary. “Because we wanted another girl.”