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I blink back the panicked tears that burnon to the photo like it’s a fucking lifeline

He letsbreaths and force my heart rate to return to normal But he doesn’t take his eyes off aze flicking down to the picture in my hand

“Are those people you know?”

His voice is soft Gentle, even But I don’t have to know this man well to know that I don’t really haveHe may never raise his voice above the level it’s at now, but he won’t stop asking until he gets an answer

“It’smy throat “And my brother”

Marcus’s thick dark brows jerk upward, and I know I’ve surprised him

Itine he hasn’t also done at least a cursory internet search for information about me in all that time—if not a whole lot more than that

And none of those searches would’veabout a brother

I know I’ve tried

“What’s his na in the laht

I drag in a breath “I don’t know”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“We were separated ere really little He’s two years younger thanwires got crossed somewhere, and there’s no record of him in the system None that I’ve been able to find, anyway”

The words feel strange onsoul about this in years I look at the faded photograph almost daily, but I haven’t spoken of my brother in years

“I searchedto the rumpled sheets on the bed beneath me “When the few ht I had a chance of finding him”