"Your mother never wanted you to know. I couldn't imagine breaking that promise after she died. You'd already lost her. I couldn't let you lose me, too."

I stared back at him. "I feel like we lost a big part of you when Mom died. You were never the same after that. Maybe you didn't want to tell us that you weren't our father, but I feel like deep down, it played a role in our relationship. You might have tried to stay closer if we were your blood. But Mom left you with two kids who weren't yours."

"You were mine," he said fiercely. "And I've always loved you. I just didn't know how to show it. Your mother was better at that. She was loving and nurturing. I always felt awkward and uncomfortable. I never said the right thing, and I knew I wasn't the father you wanted me to be." He let out a breath and sat down on the sofa.

Vicky sat down next to him, putting a comforting hand on his leg.

I took the chair across from them, thinking that this was the way our relationship had played out since they'd gotten married—the two of them together and me on the opposite side.

"When did you get here?" I asked Vicky.

"Your father called me this morning, and I got on the first plane out."

"Have you spoken to the police yet?" I asked.

"I spoke to Inspector Greenman briefly," Vicky replied. "But he wants to have a longer conversation at some point."

My gaze moved to my father. "What about you?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. Did you tell him you saw me?"

"No," I admitted. "But you need to call him and tell him exactly what happened. I don't know why you're afraid to do that. You didn't shoot, Mom, did you?"

"Of course I didn't shoot her," my father said vehemently. "I've never shot a gun in my life."

"Then you shouldn't be afraid to talk to the police."

"I slapped your mother the day before she was shot. If that was caught on camera anywhere, I'm going to be a suspect," he said. "I don't want to get railroaded because of a fight. I shouldn't have hit her, but my God, what she did to me—the lies, the deception—I had a right to be angry." He paused, his gaze narrowing on my face. "I don't know why you're not angry, too, Brynn."

"Oh, I'm angry. I have been through every emotion there is since I found out she was alive. I can't believe she left us. She said she did it to protect us. But there had to have been another way."

"When did she say that?" he asked.

"She was awake for a few minutes this morning, but she didn't tell me much except that she'd had to disappear to save our family from some danger she was in."