Chapter 113
I step closer, resting my hands on the wooden frame of the swingset. The earthy scent of freshly cut grass envelops me as Bree looks over to smile at me. “I was wondering when you would come looking for us. He’s been asking for you.” Bree tells me.
“Look at me, Dad! I’m flying!” Max beams, kicking his legs wildly in mid–air, his blue eyes sparkling with pure glee.
“Just don’t fly too high, or you might take off!” I tease.
But then, out of the corner of my eye, I see him–Damian. He strides across the grass, papers clutched tightly in his hand, his expression taut and his pace quick. My heart drops.
“Great,” I mutter under my breath. The last thing I want is another confrontation with my brother while Max and Bree are here. I straighten, forcing myself to remain calm, even as Damian approaches with purpose. The tension in his posture tells me he isn’t here for casual conversation.
“Max, why don’t you show Bree how high you can swing?” | suggest, hoping to divert his attention.
Max nods eagerly, oblivious to the sudden shift in atmosphere. Bree flashes me a questioning look but says. nothing. I step aside, moving toward Damian, who stands at the edge of the garden like an unwelcome storm cloud.
“What is it?” I ask, my voice steady, though a hint of
impatience creeps in.
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He thrusts the papers forward, and I catch a glimpse of official seals and printed text. “The council couldn’t find any record of Brielle,” he says, his tone clipped. “Not even after an extensive search, she doesn’t exist.”
My stomach tightens. I glance back at Bree and Max, their laughter ringing clear, behind us.
“Are you still sure you’re not making a mistake?” he presses, and I can hear the underlying doubt in his voice.
A knot forms in my chest. I scan the document, my eyes darting over the bureaucratic language, the cold reality sinking in. My pulse quickens with unease.
He leans closer, his face grim. “She could be hiding something. You need to consider that.”
“She has to be more than just a ghost,” I add, my mind racing. with questions about Bree’s past, the secrets that cloud her identity. What lies beneath the surface? Who was she before. she stumbled into our lives?
“Maybe,” Damian shoots back, crossing his arms, “but we can’t ignore what the council says.”
Anger flares within me, hot and quick. I want to defend Bree, the warmth she brings to our lives. But I push it down, forcing myself to stay calm. “Bree isn’t a threat,” I reply firmly.
“Maybe,” he concedes, crossing his arms. “But we can’t ignore the facts. If the records don’t show her… what does that mean? She’s hiding something, she’s lying to you.”
I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words settle in my chest like a stone. “You need to find out who she is. Fucking
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command her if you have to.” I can see the worry etched on his face, the same protective instinct that drives me. “Before it’s too late.”
I nod slowly, torn between wanting to trust Bree and the gnawing question of her past. What secrets does she hold? I glance at the documents again, feeling the edges of my resolve fray.
“Let’s talk about this later,” I finally say.
Damian relents, though I can see the skepticism lingering in his eyes. We turn back to find Bree gently setting Max down from the swing, her kind smile returning as she kneels beside
him.
“Hey, what do you say we play a game?” Bree suggests, her voice brightening the air again. She clasps her hands together, drawing Max’s attention away from us.
“Yeah! Can we play tag?” he chirps, bouncing on the balls of his feet, full of youthful energy.
“Tag it is!” she declares, her laughter ringing out once more as she chases after Max.
“Dad are you playing?” Max sings out and I force a smile on my lips, shoving the documents at Damian.
“I’ll be right over,” I tell him.
“Soren!” Damian hisses.
“Later, right now I am playing with my son.” I tell him, walking
off in Bree and Max’s direction.
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