I’m not allowed to tell him the details of what happened in Franklin Astor’s private quarters. The memory of his hands on my breasts, his mouth between my thighs, the fullness of him inside me are secrets I’ll carry with me to my grave.

That was the pact Edwin and I made.

We’re on our way home now, and the silence between us is heartbreaking. I have faith we’ll find a way through this together, after some time has passed.

But what if I didn’t conceive?

What if we have to make the decision to go back next month and try again?

The next several entries are a chronicle of how my parents worked through their decision to bring a third person into their bedroom. Though to be accurate, the bedroom belonged to Franklin Astor. For the weeks following that night, resentment and disappointment festered because the gamble didn’t produce the results they prayed for. My mother didn’t get pregnant.

But I wouldn’t be here today if they hadn’t gone back and tried again.

Time runs away from me as I become immersed in the pages, shocked to my core as the truth unfolds. My mother spent two more nights with Franklin Astor before she conceived, and in exchange for his contractual agreement to relinquish all parental rights to my parents, my mother agreed to visit his bed once a year until he no longer wished for her to do so.

Reaching the end of the journal, I close it and set it back on the table. The call of seagulls drift into the room, but otherwise it’s utterly quiet. I sit, unmoving, fighting tears as I wrap my head around everything I learned today. I don’t want to believe it, but my mother’s words are indisputable evidence.

Edwin Van Buren was not my biological father.

A soft knock startles me from my stupor, and I lift my head as Liam steps into the sitting room. He closes the distance but stops before coming within touching distance, and I can’t ignore the awkwardness between us after the way we left things the last time I saw him, when he forbade me from touching myself.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine.” The lie rolls off my tongue without hesitation, and a small ping of regret arrows through my heart. Lying to Liam Castle isn’t something I want to do, but I don’t have a choice.

With a sigh, he takes a step closer. “You don’t seem fine. Faye didn’t, either. She just left the island.”

I knew she’d leave, but hearing confirmation hurts more than I thought it would. “She wasn’t happy here, so I relieved her of her duties.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I know how close the two of you are.”