Cody squinted as if my words were hurting his head. “You mean her stepdad? What about him?”

“Do you remember the day I brought Vera home?” I asked, trying to ease the tension.

“Of course.”

I chose my words carefully. “I wasn’t exactly…forthcoming about the details. I had actually met Vera’s biological father that day. He was the one who left her on the side of the road. I never got his name at the time, but I got his license plate number. Anyway, with the help of a private investigator, we were able to get his name. Bennett Hunter. Marin’s father—well, apparently stepfather.”

Cody said nothing. Not even a glimpse of surprise on his placid face. He…knew all along?

“You knew.” Oliver had noticed it too and wasn’t afraid to call his brother out on it.

And he kept it from me? Sound bites of his consolations whispered in my ear. All of the empathetic words. All of the reassurances he had offered. All lies. All fake. My little puddle of disbelief swelled into an ocean of anger.

“How long?” I jabbed my finger at him.

Cody stood there dumbfounded.

“How long did you know Marin was Vera’s sister, Cody?” This time my finger struck his chest. Hard.

“Since a few days after Vera disappeared.”

“You’ve been sitting on this information for six months? Why the hell wouldn’t you tell me?” I was screaming now, the words pouring out of me rushed and furious. “I’ve been grieving and searching and dying inside every day for the last six months—189 days since she went missing, Cody! 189 days I couldn’t sleep, barely tolerated food, worried if Sydney would ever find a kidney donor, all while you knew that Vera was with Marin’s father! I can’t believe you would do this to me. We’re family, Cody!”

Cody leaned away from me, giving me a clearer look at the disheveled mess that he was. Glassy eyes, streaked with red veins. His face gaunt and pale. He’d developed a potbelly from sloth and perpetual drunkenness, yet his grimy sweatpants hung off his bony hips like a sagging tent. Only now did the state of the living room come into focus. Empty beer bottles scattered everything. Forties of malt liquor drained to the last drop. Shot glasses and food scraps and dirty tumblers. If I wasn’t so livid I would have pitied him.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Felicity. I was trying to protect you. Protect everyone.”

“Bull! How was allowing my daughter to stay missing protecting her?” My voice had never reached this octave before.