While I appreciate all he’s saying, I’m still not understanding why he’s telling me. It’s hard for me to believe this is all out of the kindness of his heart.

“Thank you for sharing this with me. It’s really nice of you . . .”

“I feel a but coming on.” He fills in my pause, accurately reading my tone.

“But . . .” My smile is weak as I confirm his feelings. “I don’t understand why you’re telling me this or why my dad feels so comfortable telling you his plans. Who exactly are you, Connor Walsh, and what are you planning to do here?”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. Flipping it open, he pulls out a card and hands it over to me. I take the embossed business card from his hand like it’s a snake about to bite. Familiarity dances on the outskirts of my mind, and when I flip it over, everything finally snaps into place.

I walk around to the back of my desk, pulling open the top drawer and shuffling papers and pens around until I find what I’m looking for. I grab the business card I found all those months ago when I was organizing Gran’s files and hold it next to the one Connor just handed me. Prose and Fable’s name is in bold print with their calligraphy pen logo at the top of both cards. Beneath it, Connor Walsh’s name in simple script, followed by his chief operating officer title.

“I knew your name sounded familiar.” I keep my eyes on the matching business cards. “Now, are you going to tell me the full truth this time? What’s going on here and how did you know my gran?”

CHAPTER 20

I don’t know how long I stay in Gran’s office after Connor leaves, but by the time I head home, the sky is dark and the store is empty. I think I remember Dani stopping by my office to let me know she was leaving, but I can’t even be sure. I was frantic, tearing apart Gran’s desk to try to find anything that might confirm what Connor told me.

But of course, there was nothing.

The drive home is a blur as I try to fight back the demons threatening to consume me. I haven’t felt like this in months. Not since the day Gran passed. Somehow, though, it feels worse this time.

Because at least when Gran died, I was able to be mad at the world.

Right now, I’m mad at her.