CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE:BORN INTO A FAMILY OF LIARS.

   BORN INTO A FAMILY OF LIARS

I was not eavesdropping.

That is important. I need that on record.

I was walking past my grandfather’s study on my way to the kitchen because I had developed an unhealthy dependence on late-night tea, and the hallway lights were dim, and the door was half open, and voices were raised.

Raised voices in this house were rare.

So I slowed down.

That was all.

I slowed down.

“Matteo, this is getting dangerous,” my grandmother said. Her voice was low but tight, like a thread pulled too far. “She is getting attached.”

I stopped.

My fingers curled around the edge of the wall, my body already reacting before my brain caught up. I leaned back just enough to stay hidden, my heartbeat turning loud in my ears.

Attached to who.

“To him,” Matteo replied. “That was inevitable.”

“You said we would tell her.”

“I said we would tell her when the time was right.”

There was a pause. A heavy one.

“She calls him her brother,” my grandmother said quietly. “She trusts him.”

My stomach dipped.

They were talking about Elio.

“I know,” Matteo said. “And that is exactly why we cannot rush this.”

I pressed my shoulder against the wall, suddenly very aware of how cold the marble floor felt under my bare feet.

“What happens when she finds out from someone else,” my grandmother asked. “What happens when she learns his name is not even real.”

My breath caught.

Not real.

My head snapped up slightly, my pulse slamming so hard I felt dizzy.

“What do you mean not real,” Matteo asked, his voice sharp now.

My grandmother exhaled slowly. “Matteo, his name is not Elio.”

The world tilted.

I felt it physically, like the house had shifted under me, like the floor was no longer solid. My wolf stirred uneasily, not growling, not warning, just alert in a way that made my skin prickle.

“What are you saying,” Matteo asked.

“I am saying that we allowed Liam to lie to her. Why would he lie to her about his name?.”

Liam.

The sound of it hit me in the chest.

Liam.

I did not know why, but something about that name felt familiar. Like I'd seen Mom Scrabble it somewhere in an old diary or when she cried into Dad's shoulders thinking I was asleep at night. 

My grandfather - Matteo was silent for a moment.

“You are certain,” he asked.

“Yes,” my grandmother replied. “I have always known. We both have. We agreed the name change was necessary.”

“And now,” Matteo said slowly, “we are living with the consequences of that decision.”

“She is bonding with him,” my grandmother said. “She laughs with him. She listens to him. She lets him walk her back from training. Matteo, she has not let someone do that in years.”

I swallowed.

That was true.

I had not even realized it myself until she said it out loud.

“I see them,” my grandmother continued. “In the mornings. In the evenings. She seeks him out. Not in the way of a girl seeking a boy, but in the way of someone who feels safe.”

Safe.

The word burned.

“And when she finds out,” my grandmother said, “that the boy she trusts has been living under a lie, what do you think that will do to her.”

My vision blurred.

My wolf went very still.

 "That is why we must tell her,” she continued. “Soon. Before someone else does. Before this becomes another betrayal she has to survive.”

Another.

That word landed like a slap.

Matteo sighed, the sound heavy and tired. “She is just beginning to come back to herself. I do not want to push her back into that place.”

“You cannot protect her by lying to her,” my grandmother said gently.

“I know,” he replied. “But timing matters.”

“And what if she hears it herself,” my grandmother asked. “What if she overhears something she is not meant to hear.”

My stomach dropped straight through the floor.

I took a step back instinctively.

The floorboard creaked.

Just once.

Sharp. Loud. Unforgiving.

Silence fell inside the study.

My heart slammed so hard it hurt.

“Emily,” my grandfather’s voice called, calm but edged with something else. “Come in here.”

I froze.

Every instinct screamed at me to run. To disappear. To retreat into the version of myself that learned early how to vanish when adults spoke in hushed tones.

But my legs would not move.

I stepped forward.

Slowly.

The door was fully open now.

My grandparents stood inside the study, both of them turned toward me. My grandmother’s hand hovered near her chest. My grandfather’s expression was unreadable.

“How long were you standing there,” he asked.

I swallowed.

Long enough.

“Long enough,” I said quietly.

My grandmother’s eyes softened immediately. “Emily.”

I stepped inside, my movements stiff, my body braced for impact that did not come.

“I was not listening on purpose,” I said. “I was going to the kitchen.”

“I know,” she said gently.

My grandfather closed the door behind me.

The click echoed.

My wolf shifted restlessly.

“So,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “His name is not Elio.”

Neither of them spoke.

“That was not a question,” I added.

My grandmother nodded slowly. “No.”

I let out a breath that felt like it had been trapped in my chest for days. “It is Liam.”

“Yes,” she said.

I laughed.

It slipped out before I could stop it. Not because it was funny, but because my body had not been given any other instruction.

“Of course it is,” I said. “Of course.”

“Emily,” my grandfather said, stepping forward. “Let us explain.”

I held up a hand.

“Please do not,” I said. “Not yet.”

They stopped.

“I just need to understand something first,” I continued. “You hid him. You trained him. You changed his name. And then you let him walk into my life like that was normal.”

“We did not let him,” my grandmother said. “We introduced him carefully.”

“Carefully,” I repeated. “You let me believe I was finally catching up to a family I did not know existed.”

Her eyes filled with something like regret.

“I did not ask for him to be perfect,” I said. “I did not ask for him to protect me. I just liked that he showed up.”

My grandfather’s jaw tightened.

“And now,” I continued, “I find out that even his name is not real.”

“It is still him,” my grandmother said softly. “The name does not change that.”

It did not.

That was the problem.

“I trust him,” I said. “Do you understand that.”

“Yes,” my grandmother replied immediately.

“And you were going to let me keep trusting him,” I said, “without telling me the truth.”

“We were going to tell you,” my grandfather said.

“When,” I asked.

He did not answer.

That was answer enough.

I nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Okay.

The word felt strange in my mouth.

“Emily,” my grandmother said, reaching for me.

I stepped back.

“I am not angry,” I said, surprised to realize it was true. “I am just tired.”

My wolf pressed close inside me, quiet but present.

“I need to talk to him,” I added.

My grandfather hesitated. “Not tonight.”

“I was not asking,” I said.

There was a long pause.

Finally, my grandmother nodded. “We will not stop you.”

I turned toward the door.

“Emily,” Matteo said.

I looked back.

“He does not know you overheard us,” he said. “And he does not know that we were close to telling you.”

I nodded once.

“I will keep that in mind.”

I left the study with my head high and my chest tight, my steps hurried even as my thoughts spiraled.

Elio.

Liam.

My brother.

Or whatever he really was.

One thing was clear.

My family was full of lies.