Will he look at me and see a stranger?

I could tell myself I was going to see my biological father, a man with no more connection to me than DNA. But it was complete and utter bullshit. For twenty-two years of my life, I’d forgotten Todd Larsen. But I hadn’t forgotten him. My first dad.

I barely swung to the toilet before losing my dinner.

Well, I guess, as similes go, that one was about perfect.

I knelt on the floor, gasping and gagging.

“Olivia?”

“I’m fine.”

I gasped and gagged more quietly.

“My hearing is quite functional. Open the door.”

“I’m okay.”

“If you pass out from fever again—”

“I’m puking, Gabriel. It’s not a fever.” I struggled to my feet. “Allow me the dignity of cleaning up in private, okay? Go to the car. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

A long pause. I could still sense him there, looming.

“I really think you should open—”

“Gabriel!” I took a deep breath, gripped the edge of the sink, and stared at my reflection, my eye makeup smudged, giving me a hollow, haunted look. “I am fine,” I said slowly. “Just give me a few minutes.”

Pause. “All right. But I’m staying right here.”

I opened my mouth, then bit my tongue. “Okay.”

“There’s mouthwash under the sink.”

I shook my head and grabbed a washcloth.

—

I don’t chew gum. I suspect that’s my mother’s influence—she thought it was unladylike. But as I was leaving the office, my gaze fell on a pack of spearmint gum sitting on Lydia’s desk.

“Take it,” Gabriel said. “We can replace it later.”

“No, I—”

“It’ll help settle your stomach.” He shoved the package into my hand.

The flavor ran out before we left the city, so I spit the piece into a tissue and pulled out another. Chewed it. Spit it out. Took another. The whole way to the jail, I chewed gum, and it had nothing to do with settling my stomach. It was about giving my nerves something to latch on to.

By the time we reached the prison doors, I’d gone through the whole package. When I reached for another and found it empty, Gabriel didn’t say a word, but his look made me feel as if I’d stumbled over my own feet. Clumsy and lost, desperate for stability and comfort.

I stopped walking.

“You’re this close, Olivia.” I caught the faint sigh in his voice, and it cut through me.

“I’m going in. I just . . .” I looked up at him. “I’ll do this alone.”

“What?”

I straightened, crumpling the empty gum package and pitching it into the trash can.

“I’m going to see him alone,” I said. “If you want to come inside, okay. If you’d rather wait in the car, that’s fine, too.”

When I looked up, his face was impassive. Another five seconds went by before he said, “Why?”

“I think I need to.”

He seemed to chew a stick of gum himself, his jaw working. Then, his shades still on, he met my gaze. “Have I done something wrong, Olivia?”

I don’t want to break down in front of you. I feel like you’re already disappointed in my weakness. You expect better of me. I can’t give you better. Not with this. So I’d like you to stay outside.

“I just think I should handle this on my own.”

His chin jerked up, lips tightening.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “If I’d realized this in Chicago, I’d have caught a cab. I didn’t mean to have you chauffeur me out here—”

“I didn’t chauffeur you. I wouldn’t have let you come on your own. Not until this other matter is settled.” He adjusted his cuffs. “I’ll escort you in, then, and ensure all the proper arrangements have been made. Is that suitable?”

I could hear the chill in his voice. Damn it, Gabriel. This is not the time to get your back up.

“I’m sor—”

“No need. I understand.”

He pulled open the door and ushered me through.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

When I went to see Pamela for the first time, I’d been surprised to meet her at a table, with nothing between us. Gabriel had said the authorities would never let me get that close to Todd. He was right. I was sitting on a rickety stool, staring at a battered speaker and scratched Plexiglas, listening to the woman beside me complain to her inmate husband about the neighbors parking in front of their house.

I’d been a fool to ask Gabriel to stay outside. Yes, it would be harder with him here, watching and assessing, but that would give me a reason to be stronger.

I stood and turned toward the door. Should I ask him to come in? I—

“Olivia.”

I jerked back. The voice was so familiar, my adopted name so wrong in it.

“If you’re leaving, I understand.”

His voice was soft, yet still audible over the faint buzz of the speaker.

My knees wobbled, and I think if I could have run without falling flat on my face, I would have, but I couldn’t move.

“If you can stay, just back up and sit down. You don’t have to turn around. Be careful, though. You don’t want to miss the stool.”

A soft chuckle. Oh God, I knew that chuckle, just as I knew the quiet voice and the louder raucous one, too. I could hear that voice strumming with laughter as he pushed me on the swing. As he swooped me up, swirling me around. As he put me on his shoulders. As he tossed me onto the couch and whirled me around in a pool. Always playing, always feeding my need to go higher, go faster, to feel the adrenaline rush.