My gaze moved from Rachel to my mom. "What do you know about what happened yesterday?"

"Rachel filled me in earlier," she replied. "I'm so sorry you and Dani went through all that. I never thought you would ever have to face that evil man."

"That evil man is our biological father," Dani said, a hard note in her voice. "Isn't that right?"

My mother gave a regretful nod. "Yes. Unfortunately, that is true."

"Let's back up," I said. "I want to know how we got here. What are your real names? The names you were given when you were born?"

"We were born Claire and Elaine Thompson," my mother said. "We lived in Chicago. Our father was never in our lives. Our mother had problems with substance abuse. She was in and out of rehabs. We lived with a neighbor when she would disappear. Mrs. Hursh saved us for as long as she could. She taught me how to play music. It was my escape."

I could relate to that. "So you lied about your parents dying young."

"It was simpler that way," my mom said. "It wasn't a complete lie. They were pretty much dead to us. Mrs. Hursh made sure we had food and a place to sleep. We were safe with her until our mom came back one day with a new boyfriend. She demanded that we go with her, and we couldn't say no." My mom's voice faltered. "We'd only been there a day when the worst happened." My mom drew in a breath and reached out her hand to Rachel.

Rachel squeezed my mom's fingers, reminding me of how many times Dani and I had done the same thing.

"What happened?" Dani asked impatiently. "It was something bad, wasn't it?"

When my mother didn't answer, Rachel said stoically, "I was raped by my mother's boyfriend, while my mother was passed out. I was fourteen."

"Oh, my God!" I murmured. "I'm so sorry."

"It was my fault. I shouldn't have left her," my mother interrupted, guilt and pain in her eyes. "But I didn't want to miss my music recital. I had been practicing for weeks. I was selfish."

"You didn't know what was going to happen," Rachel said.

"I should have." My mother drew in a deep breath. "When I got back to the house, I took Rachel to Mrs. Hursh's, and she called 911. We thought they'd let us stay with her, but they said she wasn't an approved home. The social worker split us up and put us into foster care." She paused, more guilt running through her eyes. "My situation was better than Rachel's. I had foster parents who made sure I got to school and helped me pursue my music. I tried to convince them to take her in, but they said they weren't licensed for another child."

My gaze moved to Rachel. "What happened to you?"