The hotel room was small and unremarkable, exactly what Luna had hoped for. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the untraceable phone Marcus had given her. Part of her wanted to call Grayson, to hear his voice and pretend she could return to the safety of his arms.Instead, she pulled out her laptop and began searching for everything she could find about Dr. James Ashford. He was currently on vacation and not in the country, if not she would have gone directly to his house. The man had an impressive public profile. Respected researcher, published author, philanthropist. He'd worked at several prestigious institutions over the past two decades, always in research positions, always quietly brilliant. But there were gaps in his timeline—months here and there where his whereabouts were unclear.One of those gaps coincided exactly with when her mother had been pregnant.Luna rubbed her temples, trying to ease the building headache. Every answer led to ten more questions. Every pie
Luna stared at Grayson, the name echoing in her mind like a death knell. Dr. James Ashford. The kind man who had praised her knowledge, who had looked at her with grandfatherly warmth, who had made her feel accepted and valued.He had known. All along, he had known exactly who she was."That can't be right," she said, her voice hollow with shock. Memories from the dinner crashed over her in waves—the way his eyes had lingered on her face, how he'd seemed almost emotional when she'd spoken about feeling lost, the strange intensity in his voice when he'd said she reminded him of someone."Marcus verified it multiple times," Grayson said quietly. "Twenty years older, but it's definitely him."Luna felt the world tilt beneath her feet. "He sat there across from me, smiling, sharing stories, and he knew. He's known all along what happened to my mother."Grayson stepped toward her, his hand reaching out instinctively before he caught himself. The space between them felt charged with unspoke
Luna's legs gave out beneath her. She slid down the door until she was sitting on the cold marble floor, the photograph scattered beside her like broken pieces of her world.Grace was her half-sister. And Grayson's half-sister.Which meant... which meant her mother had been involved with Grayson's father. The same man who had terrorized Grayson's childhood, who had built an empire on stolen dreams. The same man who might have been responsible for her mother's disappearance.The voices in the hallway had faded, but Luna couldn't move. Her mind raced through fragments of memory, trying to piece together a timeline that made sense. Her mother, pregnant and glowing in the photograph. The fire. The disappearance. And somewhere in between, a relationship with Richard Vaughn that had produced a child.A soft knock at her door made her heart jump."Luna?" Grayson's voice was quiet, tentative. "May I come in?"She wanted to say no. Wanted to lock the door and pretend she hadn't heard what she'
Luna didn't sleep that night. She sat curled in the window seat, staring at the photograph until her eyes burned. The woman in the picture had her face, her smile, but there was something different in her expression—a contentment that Luna had never seen in her own reflection. The kind of peace that came from carrying new life, from believing in a future worth building.The man beside her mother wore a white lab coat, his face partially turned away from the camera. He looked familiar somehow, though Luna couldn't place him. Was he still alive? Did he know what had happened to her mother? To the baby?She'd searched her memories until her head pounded, but found nothing. No recollection of her mother being pregnant, no dreams of a baby sister or brother. The child in her mother's womb would have been born around the time of the disappearance—if they'd survived at all.But which child was she looking at in this photograph? Was the baby her mother carried the Luna who sat here now, or ha
Dr. Sarah Morrison had kind eyes and a soothing voice, but Luna found herself resenting the woman's gentle probing into her fractured memories."Tell me about the nightmares," Dr. Morrison said during their second session.Luna curled deeper into the leather chair in what had once been a guest room, now converted into a makeshift therapy office. "They're not nightmares. They're memories.""How can you tell the difference?""Because nightmares fade when you wake up. These get clearer." Luna stared out the window, watching Grayson's gardener tend to the roses. "Every time I dream, I remember something new. A voice, a smell, a feeling. It's like my mind is slowly unlocking doors I didn't know were sealed.""That must be overwhelming.""Terrifying," Luna admitted. "What if I remember something that changes everything? What if the person I really am is someone I can't live with?""Who do you think you are now?"Luna was quiet for a long moment. "I used to think I was Luna Reyes—a survivor
The days that followed blurred together in a haze of stilted conversations and careful distances. Luna found herself watching Grayson like a stranger, analyzing every gesture for signs of deception. He, in turn, treated her with the same polite formality he showed his business associates—kind but distant, protective but removed.Three days after Detective Roberts' visit, Marcus knocked on Luna's suite door with his usual precise timing."Mrs. Vaughn? Mr. Vaughn requests your presence in his office."The formal address stung, it felt foreign. She'd grown used to Marcus calling her Luna sometimes, a small intimacy that had felt like acceptance into Grayson's inner circleShe found Grayson behind his desk, staring at a stack of documents. He looked up when she entered, and she was struck by how tired he appeared. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his usually immaculate appearance was slightly disheveled."You wanted to see me?" she asked, hovering near the door."I had Marcus research