“A friend ... he told me.” For the first time she considered the fact that Luke could have been mistaken or lied, and she mentally kicked herself for not checking it out herself. She was a reporter, for God’s sake. She knew better than to take someone’s word. She spent days double-checking sources and yet this time, she’d taken Luke’s story about Dave as if it were Gospel from the Bible.

But he wouldn’t have lied.

“You shoulda told me. Told him about me,” Josh said.

“As I said, I’m sorry, Josh.” She sniffed as tears drizzled down her cheeks. “So sorry.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I—I couldn’t. It was wrong. Bad. I wish I could change things, but I can’t. I . . .” She sighed and fought the urge to break down altogether. “I just can’t. Not now.”

He blinked and looked away toward the window that was open just a crack. Outside, thunder rumbled over the hills and rain began to drip down the windowpanes. Blue growled from the living room. With a swipe of one hand Josh wiped the tip of his nose and as Katie touched him he shifted, using his shoulder as a shield, silently shunning her.

They were only inches apart but the distance between them seemed vast. Unbridgeable.

“Josh—”

“Leave me alone.”

“Honey, please—”

He hopped to his feet, winced from the pain in his ankle, then skewered her with eyes filled with hatred. With a condemning finger pointed at her nose, he whispered his newfound mantra: “You shoulda told me.” His voice cracked and Katie’s heart shattered into a million pieces.

“You’re right,” she admitted, standing and wanting so badly to fold him into her arms. Here in his room where model airplanes, books, CDs and magazines had begun to be packed into boxes for the move. Boxes of memorabilia that his father had never seen. A soccer trophy winked in the harsh light from the overhead fixture—a trophy Josh had never shared with his father. How had she been so selfish? She’d denied her son his right to know his own dad. Just as she’d been denied the knowledge of her biological father. “You’re right, Josh. I made a mistake,” she admitted, “but I can’t change anything now. I can only let you meet your other grandparents—your father’s parents. They want to see you.”

“Just leave me alone.” His chin inched up in rebellious defiance and his cheeks were wet from his silent tears.

“Listen, Josh—”

“I said, leave me alone.” He snagged up the yearbook and Katie told herself she had no choice but to let him sort through his feelings, whatever pain she’d inadvertently hurled at him. She swallowed hard. “Think about it.”

“I don’t want to talk to anybody!”