Caleb stared off into the fire. “So after she left, your father did the best he could…”

“Yes, as time went on, the effect she had on his life lessened, although he could never really forget her.”

“Where did she go when she left?”

“He doesn’t know. She just disappeared. Nineteen years later, we still don’t know where the hell she is.”

“You never tried to find her?”

“For what?” I threw the pieces of grass I’d gathered to the ground. “She didn’t want me. And seeing her again would likely only hurt my father. She knows where to find him—us—and she’s never tried.”

His eyes filled with sympathy. “Fair enough.”

“Anyway, those early years of raising me alone were not easy on my dad. One day, he realized it would be more economical to find a live-in nanny than pay for the daycare where he’d put me. So he hired a woman full time to take care of me.”

“How did that work out?”

I smiled. “Her name was Maura.”

“Really…wow. Your stepmum.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Makes sense, I suppose.”

“I know.”

“I think I know where this story is going now,” he said.

“Yup. So that was that. My father made a life with Maura. And even though she’s the only mother I’ve ever known, I still haven’t given her the respect she deserves—by calling her Mom. I don’t know why it’s so difficult for me. I started calling her Maura when I was four, and she’s always just been Maura. Even at that age, I knew the difference between Maura and a biological mother. Perhaps if she’d raised me from the time I was a baby, things might have been different. But I can actually remember the time when it was just me and my dad—before Maura. I knew she was my nanny from the very beginning, so it’s always been hard to view her as my mother. Then when Shelley came along, watching their mother-daughter relationship, how close they are—it’s just innate. The difference is clear to me. Maura is not my mom. I’m motherless.”

Caleb blinked several times. “Is it innate with Maura and Shelley, or is it just the fact that you’ve always put a guard up and haven’t allowed her to be your mum?”

I took a moment to think about that. A lot of it was my fault. “Maybe it’s a bit of both.”

He nodded. “And your dad? How’s your relationship with him? I haven’t been able to figure that out.” He placed his hand on my knee. “I’m sorry if this seems like an inquisition. You don’t have to get into it.”

The brief contact of his touch felt good.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I have a very strange relationship with my father. He loves me, but I’m always afraid he sees her in me. He’s never exactly told me I’m a painful reminder of Ariadne, but I guess I still worry that all he sees when he looks at me is her.”

“Do you look like her?”

“I look exactly like her. He showed me a photo of her once. When I was thirteen, I threatened to run away if he didn’t tell me the honest truth about my mother and what happened between them. He’d been so insistent on not telling me until that time. All of the information I have today basically came from one very long conversation.”

“One and done.”

“Yeah.” I chuckled. “So, because I look so much like her, I know my father must see Ariadne whenever he looks at me. And that makes me sad. I don’t want that.”

Caleb stared up at the night sky. “Do you think that’s why you’re sort of…aloof around your family? It’s like maybe you’re trying to hide yourself in some way.”

Caleb picked up on things in a way that astounded me. Hiding was a good way to describe what I did when it came to my family. In many ways, I felt like an outsider.

“I do think on some level I feel like an extension of Ariadne, even though I don’t know her—especially since I’m practically the age now that she was when my father met her. It’s odd because, as much as she didn’t want me, I feel this strange connection to her—a connection to her need to flee. I just don’t have the balls to leave.” I knew then that I might have divulged more than I should. Shaking my head, I said, “I just told you way too much.”

“I’m really fascinated, Teagan. Thank you for sharing the story with me. Honestly, it explains a lot.”

I grinned. “Does that count for my first secret of ten?”

“The fact that you hide from everything because you feel like a reflection of your mother who abandoned you? Yeah, I’d say that counts for a rather big secret.”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

We sat in a comfortable silence. Then Caleb startled me when he jumped.

“Holy shit, Teagan!”

“What?”

“There’s one last marshmallow in the bag.” He smiled from ear to ear.