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Chapters (34)
  1. Cover
  2. undone
  3. Dedication
  4. one
  5. two
  6. three
  7. four
  8. five
  9. six
  10. seven
  11. eight
  12. nine
  13. ten
  14. eleven
  15. twelve
  16. thirteen
  17. fourteen
  18. fifteen
  19. sixteen
  20. seventeen
  21. eighteen
  22. nineteen
  23. twenty
  24. twenty-one
  25. twenty-two
  26. twenty-three
  27. twenty-four
  28. twenty-five
  29. twenty-six
  30. twenty-seven
  31. twenty-eight
  32. twenty-nine
  33. thirty
  34. Acknowledgments

Oh. Add one count of hacking into the Peak County Medical database. I do this at least once a week, sometimes more. I don’t know what category it would fall under or if I even consider it an offense. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I shouldn’t be scaling over their piss-poor firewalls, but it’s not like I’m looking at other people’s records, just my own. Specifically the record regarding my birth, and I wouldn’t have to do that if my mom weren’t so freaking evasive about it. I don’t know why I keep pulling the stupid record up anyway; it’s not like it has any of the information I need. But I’m determined to find out exactly who “unknown” is and why my mother has kept him a secret from me.

two

I’m actually surprised my mom has been able to keep my paternity a secret, considering the small community we live in. People usually say Kismet is “nestled” in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. One of those best-of-both-worlds kind of places— small-town morals, city conveniences less than an hour away, property values that ensure a certain class of neighbors. The scenery is a breathtaking mix of pine and aspen, and the air is fresh. Wives stay at home (mostly), kids stay out of trouble (ahem), and husbands stay happy (yeah, right). The buffalo roam … and deer and antelope play. During the week, most (people, not deer or antelope) commute into Denver for work. Some go so far as to buy expensive loft apartments in the trendy lower downtown area known as LoDo, so they can have easy access to the hippest bars, best restaurants, and all the major league sports. On the weekend people play golf, mountain bike, ski, and kayak. It’s the dream life.

But not everyone in Kismet is living the dream.

Unless you count real estate, there is no industry in Kismet, so the only jobs are low paying—fast food, police, teachers—stuff like that. Or you work at Peak County Medical, like my mom does. Before the developers came and put in the gated subdivisions and golf courses, most people were able to afford a nice house. Now the property values are too high. So, like many, we live in a town house.

It’s not, like, “a thing.” But for the record, all of my best friends—Kori, Lexi, and Cole Blakely—live behind the gates.