Chapter 19

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The next morning, I woke up to the sound of voices downstairs.

At first, I didn't think much of it and rolled over in bed to respond to Dennis' text. He'd picked up his car bright and early and assured me that I didn't need to worry about giving the keys back just yet because he had another pair. I considered telling him about picking up Kade Castellan last night and his suspicious behaviour but decided against it.

I got out of bed and went to the window to see that indeed, the Jaguar was gone. However, in its place was a red Chevrolet Camaro.

That's when I really noticed the noise.

"...for twenty-seven years! I've built a life here, Chris. Everybody's moved on – except you."

"Marina, how could you do this?"

"What do you want me to say? That I wanted more than what our family could give me? Because that's the truth, Chris. That's the fucking truth!"

When I arrived in the living room doorway, I saw that Mom was crying. The man who stood opposite to her looked so anguished that I couldn't bring myself to pick up the phone and call the police right then and there. I'd never been the confrontational type but this stalker business was really getting out of hand.

Christian Silva, the stockbroker from Seattle whom Reid had correctly identified at his parents' charity gala, was standing in my living room.

"Mom?" I said quietly. "What's going on?"

She jumped, just realizing that I was there. "Lex? I thought you'd already left for community service. I heard the car startup on the driveway."

"That was Dennis. Who is this?"

There was silence but I knew from the look on Mom's face that she wanted to make up some lie so I would let it go. It was infuriating but luckily, somebody was on my side.

"Marina." Chris stepped closer, hands raised in surrender. His eyes were red as if he had been crying too. "She deserves to know, the same way that Anthony and your son did."

A strand of hair escaped Mom's perfect bun. "You have no right!"

"I have every right," he retorted. "I'm her family too."

I felt queasy but if there was anything that I learnt from my time at Marshall Grammar, it was to keep my cool. And I was finding it increasingly difficult.

Chris looked exasperated but his face softened. "People stopped trying to find a girl who didn't want to be found. I was the only one who kept looking - tell me it was worth it."

"Hold on." I moved forward, coming between them. "Is this...?"

She was defeated, wiping away her tears. "My brother, Christian."

I saw the resemblance even before the words left her mouth.

They had the same nose, the same high cheekbones and olive skin tone. Somehow I knew he was younger than her even though he had the frown lines from years of burden. Blue eyes, graceful frame - the only significant difference between them was Mom's hair that was a few shades lighter than Chris's dark blonde. How did I not see it earlier?

"Lex, I can explain." Mom rushed on, grabbing my arm and guiding me to the couch. She sat down beside me, leaving Chris standing. "I was the oldest in a family of five. We lived in Portland and I graduated high school with a 4.2 GPA but we couldn't afford college. My parents - your grandparents - were immigrants. They came to the States to escape political oppression in Argentina during the late 1970s. They tried to give us everything." She inhaled sharply then, looking back at Chris and I think they both had tears in their eyes. "They really did."

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