Barely.

Obviously unhappy with my lack luster response and eager to prove his

point, the stubborn little bastard started a twisted game of This Is Your Life, complete with a series of disturbing and painful vignettes inhabiting my past.

First to emerge, a pale, dark-haired child sitting on neatly painted porch steps, clutching a paper bag filled with clothes, while a woman huddled behind a

screen door and screamed at the police. “Get her out of here, she’s not natural.”

Next was the endless tour of foster homes and therapists, where no one could

reach the strange little girl trapped in her silent world.

Then when I met Kelsey, who turned out to be a godsend. She got through where all the adults failed. We became inseparable. Together, we navigated the

trials and tribulations of inattentive and, sometimes, too attentive, foster families until the Ardens had stepped up.

The years skipped forward until desert vistas and chaos dominated the

scenes, culminating in the nightmare of Flash’s death. His screams blended with

Kelsey’s fresh cries still echoing in my mind.

Fine, dammit, yes, I had survived worse. But here I was, arguing with the voices in my head.

A touch on my arm interrupted my interior dialog. Kayden. Uncomfortable, I

jerked my arm away. He opened his mouth to say something, but frustrated and

anxious, I flattened my palms against the table and shoved to my feet. The legs

of the chair scraped over the tiles with a harsh screech. Delacourt and Tag watched, their faces carefully blank. “I need a minute,” I muttered, not making

eye contact.

I pulled open the French doors and stepped on to the night-shrouded patio.

Gripping the wooden railing, I concentrated on the bite of the rough wood against my palms and sucked in the desert air. The scent of damp earth from the

nearby creek was overlaid with the spice of desert wildflowers. The combination helped corral my memories, pushing them back in the box where they belonged.

I heard someone approach but didn’t turn around.

Delacourt came up beside me, close, but with enough space between us to

keep me from feeling crowded. “Becca always loved Sedona. I used to tease her

that she loved it more than Carl.”

The implications of her comment took a moment to register. “You knew

them?”

“Met Carl when I first joined the Corps. Years later, before you and Kelsey

joined them, he introduced me to Becca. She was one of the few females who didn’t find me strange for pursuing a military command. She called me

courageous.” Her soft laugh drifted into the night. “I told her it took more courage to marry a marine than to be one. She just laughed.”

“She would,” I murmured, lifting my face to the night sky. “They loved each

other so much. Kels and I were grateful they went together. We weren’t sure one

would survive without the other.”

“They wouldn’t have left either of you girls, if they had a choice.”

Her unexpected offer of comfort tightened my throat. I dropped my head.

“Thanks.” The word squeezed past the lump lodging in my throat. My brain continued to chew over things and bit-by-bit, pieces clicking into place. With as

close as she had been to Carl and Becca, she had to have known about me. I broke the quiet between us. “You knew, didn’t you? Even before the test.”

“Yes.”

I tried not to flinch. I spent years doing my best to hide what I could do from

my adoptive parents, worried they would leave me like all those before them. It

took time to realize Kelsey and I were safe with the Ardens. Once I began to believe that I brutally shoved my ability down, refusing to see what it could offer, more afraid it would ruin everything. For the six years I lived under the Ardens’ roof, wallowing in the precious peace I found. It never occurred to me

that my parents had seen right through it. “How long?”

“Your question needs to be more specific if you want to understand the

answer you seek.”

Her Zen-like rebuke set my teeth on edge. “Fine, at what point did Carl tell you about me?”

“Your senior year in high school.” Delacourt turned until her back rested against the porch rail and set her elbows on the edge. “Once Carl and Becca realized you were going to go to the marines, they worried, so they reached out

to Flash and me. Carl had pulled some strings and managed to get ahold of your

juvenile records. What he found raised some serious concerns.”

A sickening blow of betrayal weakened my knees, until the railing was the only thing holding me up. Those records had been sealed for a reason. Suspicion

lifted its ugly head. Had it all been a lie? The smiles, the acceptance, the love?