Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141385 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141385 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
She has a point.
I know that.
It’s why it’s always been my number one goal.
But I’m too hurt, too damaged, too bitter and angry to stop at just this.
“I know,” I say quietly. “I’m just not done yet, that’s all.”
And I don’t know if I will ever be.
CHAPTER THIRTY – HATTIE
“May I come in?”
I look up at the sound of Oscar’s voice. It’s been a while since our paths crossed, and I’m not sure he and I have ever been alone.
Huh.
Well, now I’ve realised that, this is weird.
“Of course,” I say, saving the photo I’ve been needlessly editing for the last twenty-five minutes. “I could use a break.”
“Excellent.” Alec sweeps in past him in, clad in his customary black, and casually throws himself on the sofa.
Ah. We still aren’t going to be alone.
I raise an eyebrow in question at Oscar.
“Oh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “If it isn’t obvious, he tends to appear out of nowhere.”
No kidding.
“A useful skill to have,” I muse.
“Not quite as useful as pulling a knife out of thin air,” Alec retorts with a cheeky grin.
“I’m starting to wish I’d never done that.” I push my chair back from the desk and spin, looking at the two men. “Would either of you care to explain why you’re here?”
Alec sighs. “Can’t a couple of young, respectful, upper-class gentlemen drop in to see their future crown princess without judgement?”
I look at Oscar. “Is it a visit that requires the two of you, or can I kick him out?”
He chuckles and closes the door behind him, then walks over and sits on the opposite sofa to Alec. “Unfortunately, he’s the one with the information. I’m here on His Royal Highness’ orders to, and I quote, ‘Make sure that bastard doesn’t try to convince my fiancée to run away with him again.’”
I choke back a laugh. That sounds about right. I can even hear it in Finn’s voice.
“I’m offended,” Alec says, setting a briefcase on the coffee table and pulling out an envelope. “I’m not here to steal her away. Quite frankly, she scares me a little. I’m all for fearing my wife, but I’d rather not have my life part of that equation.”
“Good.” I get up and join them at the sofas. “Fear keeps people in line, and you strike me as someone who needs to be controlled.”
He tilts his head to the side, his dark eyes focusing on me. “If you weren’t so utterly correct in that statement, I think I might be upset by it.”
“I’m sure you’ll get over it.” I eye the briefcase. “If you’re here, I assume that means you have information for me.”
“You assume correctly.” He glances at Oscar. “Are you comfortable having this conversation in front of him?”
“Yes,” I reply. “Finn trusts you both, and I have nothing to hide. Besides, he probably already knows what you’ve been doing for me.”
Oscar hesitates, then nods. “Finn told me you asked Alec to look into your kidnapping. That said, if you aren’t comfortable with me knowing anything, I’m willing to leave.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine. Chances are it’s something you’ll have to address one day, so we might as well be on the same page from the beginning.”
“All right, then.” Alec slides the papers out of the envelope, flicks through the sheets, and hands them over to me. “I did as you suggested and investigated all disappearances of children around the time you went missing. Three years either side, to be exact. There’s a list of names on the first page.”
I scan the list. Emily Cartwright. Joseph Crawley. Clementine St. James. Millie Jameson. Olivia Peters-Wright. Matthew Mason. Valentina Devereaux. Ophelia Fortescue. Lucille Partey. Clara Layton.
It’s not even half the list. Not even close.
“All of these happened in the same circumstances?”
“No. The ones with a black mark next to their name are from a similar circumstance as you—social class, education, that sort of thing.” He pauses as a wave of distaste flashes across his face. “Forgive me for this, but a similar ‘value’ in terms of trafficking, I’d guess.”
I swallow. “And the red mark?”
“Those are the children who never returned home.”
Ah.
“It’s more than I thought,” I admit on a murmur. “Although, I’m not surprised. I might have seen some of these kids pass through and never knew.”
My heart.
It’s clenching.
I don’t even know how I’m breathing right now.
I’ve always known I was one of the lucky ones, but to see just how lucky I am on black and white in front of me… shit.
Oscar’s gaze hovers on me for a moment. “Are you all right?”
I force a smile as I meet his eyes. “Yes. Sorry. Survivors’ guilt isn’t something you get over, I guess.”
“You don’t have to get over it,” he says quietly, smiling warmly at me. “And whatever is in that pile of paper, it can wait if you need it to.”