A secret has been shattered . . .
In one moment, my entire life changed.
Because she lied.
The relationship we were building is fractured.
Our trust demolished.
But we have one very important link tying us together.
And that link will fuse us together for good . . . or tear us apart.
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“Penelope is your daughter.”
What?
How?
JoJo’s words swirled in my head. I could hardly focus as I stared at the girl who looked so much like me it was frightening.
For the first time in my life, my legs felt as if they might give way.
Daughter?
There was no denying she was.
But . . . I hadn’t . . . I couldn’t . . .
A mass of thoughts I couldn’t quite grasp tore through my mind. None of it made sense. The bombshell had me reeling as if I’d been hit in the face with a metal pipe.
And the girl—my . . . daughter—appeared as shell-shocked as I was.
Her lips were parted. She blinked like she’d been in the dark for days and was now blinded with light. And her face was as ashen as I was certain mine was.
I couldn’t look away.
Our gazes were locked in a tractor beam of confusion.
I couldn’t speak.
The jumble of words that refused to become coherent sentences stayed as they were in my brain.
Daughter.
Daughter.
Penelope is your daughter.
She cut her eyes to JoJo, but quickly looked away as if it were too painful. Her face pinched like she’d been seriously wounded.
She took one step back.
Then another.
And another.
Her gaze begged me for answers I didn’t have. Pleaded for me to say something to make this right.
And all I could do was stare helplessly back.
In a flash of long hair, she whirled and bolted away.
“Penelope.” JoJo had found her voice, though she didn’t sound like herself. The word was ripped from her, every bit of pain dousing each syllable.
She chased after Penelope, leaving nothing but silence in their wake.
Was this what it was like when a bomb detonated?
Noise so unbearable one had to cover their ears, followed by a deafening silence that was worse?
I leaned against the wall.
Daughter.
Daughter.
Daughter.
It was the only word I seemed capable of comprehending, though I couldn’t figure out how it applied to me.
My breaths became shallow as I struggled to get air into my lungs.
Through the fog of confusion, the first tendrils of rage wound around me.
I. Have. A. Daughter.
Each word punched through my haze. My fingerhold of anger turned into a fistful.
I. Have. A. Daughter.
The fog turned red.
Rage put a hand around my throat, making it hard to breathe, yet forcing me to focus.
I. Have. A. Daughter.
I stumbled toward the laundry room, but when I tried to take a step inside, I couldn’t.
It reminded me of JoJo.
She’d taken my sanctuary.
And she’d lied.
I. Have. A. Daughter.
And JoJo had stolen her from me.
About Grahame Claire:
Grahame Claire is a USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance.
A writer. A blogger. United by our love of stories and all things romance. There was definitely some insta-love. Hello? Books involved. A little courting. A lot of writing. The result...Grahame Claire.
Soulmates. Unashamed of our multiple book boyfriends. Especially the ones that rooted in our heads and wouldn’t leave us alone. Don’t worry. We’ll share.
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