"You knew."
Celeste stood in the doorway. Rain dripped from her coat.
Damien turned from the window. His face went pale. "Celeste—"
"Don't lie anymore."
He stepped closer. She stepped back.
"How long have you known who I am?"
His jaw got tight. "I suspected it from the beginning."
The room spun. She grabbed the door frame.
"So everything was a lie."
"No." He grabbed her arms. "That's not true."
She pulled away. "Then what is?"
He ran his hand through his hair. "My father showed me your photo when I was twelve. You were eight. He said you were important. That I needed to protect you."
She felt sick.
"So you've been watching me my whole life? Like a job?"
"At first, yes." He looked at her. "But then I met you. Really met you. Everything changed."
"I do not believe you."
"Afte
