Thora’s POV
I couldn’t get Quentin’s words out of my head.
Five years ago.
Luke’s plan.
Timing that didn’t make sense.
He wanted me paranoid. He wanted me questioning. And damn it, it was working.
By midnight I was sitting at my kitchen table with a pile of documents scattered everywhere. Birth records. Hospital bills. Old emails I swore I’d deleted.
The clock sounded not very quietly, one stretch after another seemed to me to be a whole hour. I ought to have slept, I must have needed that sleep, but my body refused. My hands trembled and I could find nothing, nothing, in them to take Luke nearer to me, to this life before he was in any way a part of my story.
And then I found it.
A receipt.
Not much, just a folded slip of paper from a private clinic. The date stamped bold across
