Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
The smile she’d worked to suppress melted into a frown.
Oh, Autumn. Oh, you are a very stupid girl.
Her heart dropped and then floated and then settled somewhere near the place it was supposed to be. She let out a small huff of breath, feeling strangely winded.
Oh, this was terrible. Horrible.
Wonderful.
She loved him. She did. Strange, curious, beautiful, broody Sam.
And there was no fathomable way this was going to work.
She clenched her eyes shut, too many warring emotions to deal with here, where there was nothing to do but wait.
Except…she only had a short time before she had to return to work, and perhaps there was one errand—one bit of research—that could be done safely and discreetly, with little risk. And she needed to talk to Sam about it.
She pulled her sweats on and then left the bedroom, spotting him outside on the deck, looking out over the water like he seemed to love to do. The silky white strands of his hair caught the muted sunlight and glinted both silver and gold. Metallic. Just like much of him.
Autumn pulled on her boots and jacket and went outside.
He must have heard her approaching, but he didn’t turn. She put her arms around his shoulders, nuzzling his neck and kissing his cheek.
He smiled, leaning into her touch, enjoying. Allowing where once he’d all but shrunk away. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so late.”
“I didn’t let you sleep. You were snoring. What was I supposed to do?” He smiled as she took the seat next to him and faked a moment of outrage.
“I don’t snore.”
He started to laugh, then cut it off. “Oh. No, you definitely don’t. That must have been a plane flying overhead.” He squinted up at the silvery sky, pearly rays splitting the clouds.
She laughed and gave him a teasing swat. Sometimes, like now, he surprised her with his sense of humor. It was as if he wanted to laugh, he just hadn’t known how.
Before.
Before this.
Before her maybe? Although she hesitated to take credit for Sam’s personal growth. That was all his to own.
She swore she saw him stretching though, taking tentative steps outside the box he’d put himself in, testing the solidity of the new ground beneath him.
For a few minutes, they simply sat in companionable silence, enjoying the crisp air and the gauzy sunlight sparkling on the water’s surface. It would be wonderful to go inside and stoke the fire, let it warm their chilled skin. She’d like to spend the rest of the day there with him…just…exploring. God, she couldn’t get enough of Sam. But she also knew there were important answers that might be waiting.
“Sam, I have to go somewhere.”
He looked over at her, his eyes worried, body still. “Okay. Where?”
She took a deep breath and told Sam about the files she’d stolen, about the portion of her own file that listed her as a “suspected ADHM” baby.
His brows lowered. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. But maybe…something.” Maybe something very big. She paused for a moment. “I found my mother. The day of the…shooting,” she said, glancing at him and then back to the lake. God, that day was such a blur. Meeting her mother had been…well, eventful to say the least. Traumatic. At any other point in her life, it would have been the most momentous thing that had happened to her.
“She, my birth mother, told me that she’d never taken the drug. She said she was about to but was…interrupted.”
“So why were you in the hospital?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “It’s possible my birth mother was lying or just plain forgot. It’s also possible the hospital made a mistake or an assumption. But…it’s also possible someone lied.”
Sam’s face was troubled. “Why would they do that?”
“I don’t know exactly. But when I took my file, I also took a few more that were part of the stack. I looked through those as well, and another boy’s file says the same thing as mine. Suspected ADHM.”
“So you want to see if you can find him?”
“Yes. I might not even be able to locate him. But if I do, and if he’ll see me right away, I’d only be half a day, no more.”
“Was he adopted like you?”
“His file says he left the hospital when his aunt adopted him and continued his treatment at home. At that point, his case with the foster care system was closed, so there’s no further information.” I need to compare our stories.
“He might be dead now,” Sam said, still not looking at her.
“He might be. But I have his name and his last known address, which was just outside New York City. It’s about two hours from here. I can’t do an internet search from the cottage. But I was going to take my car still parked at my house. It should be safe enough. No one has my name, my description from the shooting is basic at best, and the story is dying down anyway.”