Bitter Love
“I texted you some screenshots, but he’s six, raced eleven times and did decent, but obviously not decent enough to keep racing. He has decent bloodlines but, as a gelding, that doesn’t matter.”
Everly’s text pops up and I click on the image she sent of the gelding’s pedigree.
“Oh my god,” I say and instantly feel tears spring to my eyes.
“What?” Everly asks, concerned.
“He’s Phoenix’s half-brother. I thought they looked alike, and it’s because they have the same sire.”
“I’m looking up the sire now,” Everly goes on and I stare at the screen of my phone in shock. “He died seven years ago. So that gelding is probably one of the last of his offspring. You have to get him, Mom. You have to.”