Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
What the hell is happening?
She glanced at the laptop on the small table under the overhang and noted that the room where Cyrus had been kept was still empty, door propped open, the small pool of blood drying on the floor where the man had fallen.
The sound of tires on gravel met her ears, and she rushed to the edge of the porch, her heart slamming as she watched Rex’s car round the bend. With a gasp, she practically flew down the short set of steps and went rushing to where he pulled to a stop.
“What happ—” A small sob interrupted her words when she saw the child in the back seat and, for a moment, she felt like she might faint with relief. She put her hand on the car to steady herself as Rex got out. Cami pushed off the vehicle and went racing around the front, throwing herself into Rex’s arms with a sob. He caught her, bringing his palm to the back of her head as the first tears fell. “Thank you, thank you, oh thank you,” she chanted. “The man—”
“Dead.”
Dead. Okay. Okay. She’d hear the details later.
Rex set her down, and then he turned and opened the back door. Cami stepped forward, swiping at her tears, working to control her emotion as the little boy they’d watched on the screen for the last few terrifying days emerged from the vehicle.
Her little boy. Cyrus. In the flesh. She wanted so badly to reach out and touch him, but she held herself back. She’d only met him once before, but she loved him. To him, however, she was a stranger.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away. He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Perfect in every way. “Cyrus,” Rex said, stepping up beside her, “this is Cami. We’ve been trying to find you.”
Cyrus’s mouth opened to form an O of surprise. He blinked as if Cami might be a dream that he expected to dissipate. “I know you,” he finally said, his tone as bewildered as his expression. “You’re my mother.”
She drew back slightly and swallowed before glancing at Rex, as though he might be able to explain the shock of this moment. But he looked as perplexed as both she and Cyrus. Cami went down on one knee in front of the little boy. “How do you know that?”
“My mom—my adopted mom—had a picture of you from the newspapers. She didn’t tell me who you were, but I knew.” He brought a finger to his face. “You and me, we have the same eyes.”
She pulled in a breath. They did. They did have the same eyes. Even the hazel color was exact. Not quite green, but not brown either. She knew they’d change in the light, and depending on what he wore. They were her mother’s—Cyrus’s grandmother’s—eyes, too, and it was one of the ways Cami had known he was hers, even over a laptop screen.
But how his adopted mother had her name, she didn’t know. A closed adoption was supposed to maintain the privacy of both the biological and adoptive parents. Then again, Cami had seen information she wasn’t supposed to see, so perhaps the other woman had too. She supposed it was possible she’d even been given Cami’s name. Cami reminded herself that the agency she’d gone through had apparently broken more than one rule.
“I looked your name up on the internet,” Cyrus said. “I tried to find your phone number, but I didn’t know how. I watched the show about what happened to you.”
Oh. The show that had painted her as both a victim and a hero, or so she’d gathered by the comments of those who’d watched it. The show that had aired even though neither she nor her father had participated or given an interview or even a statement. The show that, despite its gruesome content as her very real torment was made available for the world to see, gained millions of views.
“Are you better now?” he asked.
“Yes. Yes, I’m better now.” That was a vast oversimplification but summed it up well enough for this young boy. She was better now.
He took a moment to stare into her eyes before nodding. “That’s good. Bad stuff happened to me too.”
“I know,” she said. “And we’re going to help you get answers.” She wanted answers as well. Her panic had turned into relief, and now that relief was melting into anger. Who had put them through this? And why?
“I saw the interview with my birth father too,” he said. Cami blinked, surprise rendering her mute. “The one who was your boyfriend at the time.”
“I . . . he . . .” She breathed out an incredulous laugh that quickly died. Hollis had denied his own fatherhood, all but calling her a liar to her face. He never once checked back. She’d hidden from the media, and the town around her had assumed what she’d let them. Even the friends she’d considered her closest had believed Hollis when he’d told them he wasn’t the father. His parents had made sure that lie had been repeated as truth in their circle as well. So many people had looked at her with pity and, in some cases, barely contained revulsion. And yet this child had gleaned the truth in a five-minute interview. Maybe he’d even done the math, an easy fact-check that seemed to escape everyone else, who apparently preferred to believe the baby had come early but was still over eight pounds. “Wow, Cyrus, you’re . . .”