Aiden’s dark brows pulled together in concentration. He looked up at her and gave a tiny shake to his head. She shifted in her chair, I thought repressing the urge to get up and snatch the box away from her older cousin. Aiden dug to the bottom of the box and drew out one more letter, this one on gray paper larger than the first few notes. He scanned it and returned it to the bottom of the box.

“So far, they're all addressed to your mother,” he said, looking from Annalise to Gage. “No signature.”

“From our father?” Annalise asked, reaching for one of the letters Aiden had left on the dining room table. Aiden moved it out of her reach before he answered.

“It's not his handwriting. Not my father's either. The date on the letter from the bottom was July 1980. Before Anna started dating Uncle James. The letter on the top was from a year after they got together.”

“What did they say?” Gage asked.

“They appear to be love letters,” Aiden said quietly as shock settled over the room.

Beside me, I felt Gage go utterly still. This was his mother they were talking about. I knew from Amelia that shortly before I'd been hired, they'd discovered that Anna Winters had borne a child and given him up for adoption before she'd married James Winters. They'd been looking for the missing child ever since.

Finding the box should have answered questions instead of creating more. Had Anna been the one to carefully pack up all those letters? What were they doing in the library? And how had the intruder known where to look?

Gage studied the box sitting so innocuously on the table and said, “I don't remember seeing that box anywhere in the library.”

“Neither do I,” Aiden said. “But there's more hidden in there than just the door to the lower level. My dad told me there were secret compartments.”

“Where?” Annalise asked. “Why didn't I know about this? Did you know?” She asked Gage.

Gage gave a guilty shrug. “Uncle Hugh said there were three, but Aiden and I only ever managed to find one. Could the box have been in another? Who would've known where to look?”

“Where is it? Where's the secret compartment that you found?” Amelia asked.

Both Aiden and Gage remained silent, and Amelia scowled at them, muttering, “You don't have to tell me, I’ll figure it out.”

I didn't have to wonder what our next project would be. Maybe searching for the hidden compartments would keep Amelia out of trouble.

“What if this is him?” Annalise asked. “What if this is the missing baby?”

“You think our intruder is Anna's missing son?” Aiden asked.

“There's a logic to it,” Gage said. “Just because we can't find him, doesn't mean he doesn't know who he is, or who we are. We have no idea what he's been told or how he was raised. He could hold a grudge or have an agenda we know nothing about.”

“It could be the father,” Amelia cut in. “None of the documents Charlie found revealed the identity of the baby's father. We know it couldn't have been James, but James knew about the baby, or that paperwork wouldn't have been so easy to find. That box of letters just proves my point. If Anna was trying to hide them, she would've burned them or torn them up, not put them in a box. I'd bet either Hugh or James had that box, not Anna. She never favored the library when she was in the house. Anna loved the living room. More light, she always said.” A shadow crossed Amelia's face, and I reached out to squeeze her hand.

Across the table, Annalise propped her heels on the edge of her chair, bringing her knees to her chest, and wound her arms tightly around them, turning herself into a defensive ball. “So basically we have no idea who it is. It could be my missing half-brother; it could be my mother's lover—”

“It could have something to do with that phone call,” I cut in.

Gage and Aiden exchanged a look I couldn't decipher. They knew something. I sat up straighter in my chair and leaned forward, looking between them.

“The break-ins started after I moved in. Not long before I got that phone call. This might not be about your family at all. This might be about me.”

“You’d been living here for months before anything happened,” Aiden argued. “I think it's unlikely this is related to your phone call.”

Before I could say anything, Gage jumped in. “It's not about you, Sophie. If the intruder had anything to do with you or Anthony Armstrong, why would he want a box of my mother's old love letters?”

I couldn't argue that logic. The timing just seemed odd.

“It could be my stalker,” Annalise said in a stark, flat voice.

“No.” Aiden and Gage both answered, together. Aiden continued, “The timing doesn't work, Lise. The break-ins started well before you came home and they don't follow the pattern. There was no card, no note, no flowers, no gifts.”

“Maybe he's escalating,” she said.

Aiden gave her a sharp look. “Did something happen you haven't told us about?”

“I didn't say that,” Annalise hedged.

“It’s not the stalker,” Aiden said.

Annalise settled back into her chair, her expression unconvinced. “I should leave,” she said.

“Don't even think about it,” Aiden said. “Tate is getting married in two days. You can wait two days.”

Annalise gave a noncommittal shake of her head. Aiden packed the letters back in the box and stood.

“The house is secured for the night. We have extra security outside, two in the library, and two downstairs. The window will be repaired tomorrow. I suggest we all try to get some sleep. Lise, I'd like you to move up to Gage's room. It's less exposed than your bedroom at the front of the house.”

“I thought you said the house was secure,” she said.

“It is,” he said gently, “but I think you'll sleep better upstairs. The only way to Gage's room is the main staircase, and that has sensors all over it. Jacob's suite is the only other room near yours, and it's empty. You won't be able to relax down there, and I know you don't want to sleep with Amelia.”

“My snoring isn't that bad,” Amelia muttered.

“We can hear you across the hall,” Gage said, easily. My cheeks burned at his open admission that he was sleeping in my bed every night. Everyone knew it, but knowing it and talking about it in the open were two different things.

“Gage,” I hissed under my breath.

“Angel,” he said, trying to hide his laugh. He reached out and took my hand, running his thumb over my knuckles. I couldn't bring myself to lift my gaze from the surface of the dining room table. I was too embarrassed.

“I'll move my things upstairs,” Annalise said, taking the attention off me. I shot her a grateful look, and she returned it with a kind smile.

We all stood, and Gage turned to me, saying quietly, “Walk Amelia back to her room and stay with her until I come get you. I'm going to help Annalise move her things upstairs and grab what I need. Wait for me to get back before you go to your room.”

“I thought you said the house was safe.”

“It is. Just humor me, okay?”

I walked Amelia back to her room and busied myself rinsing out our tea cups and throwing away the used tea bags. So many secrets. I'd been living with the Winters family for over six months, and I still couldn't keep track.

Maybe I was paranoid, but I was sure Aiden and Gage were keeping something from me. Something about that phone call or Anthony. I didn't need any more intrigue. I had enough of it trying to keep up with Amelia. I'd managed to keep her from pulling any pranks at Charlie's wedding, but she was planning something for Tate’s. I knew it. I just couldn't figure out what it was.

She'd snuck off a few times, and I'd caught her staring out the window with a secret smile playing across her lips. After half a year together, I knew the signs. She had something up her sleeve.

Trying to use our time alone to my advantage I said, “If you're planning a joke or surprise for Tate's wedding, please don't. This is not the time. Everyone is too on edge.”

“That's exactly why this is the time,” Amelia said. “Trust me. I'm not going to scare anyone, but we need to relieve a little tension around here. Everyone is way too pent up.”

“Amelia, did you see Annalise? She looked like she was about to jump out of her skin. And Gage is doing better than he was when he came home, but he's still not ready for surprises. If you're going to do something, at least tell me what it is.”

Amelia pressed her lips together and shook her head. “No, you can't keep a secret. You're going to have to trust me.”

“I love you,” I said, “but when it comes to this, I don't trust you as far as I can throw you.”

“Hmph,” she grumbled as she let me tuck her into bed. “That's not very far. You have T-Rex arms.”

I looked down at my arms and back to Amelia. “I do not! My arms are a completely normal length.”

“Compared to the rest of you, maybe. On a normal size person, they'd be tiny.”

It was the middle of the night. I was not prepared to argue Amelia's circular logic. I knew she was just trying to distract me from our conversation about whatever she was planning for Tate's wedding. Gage opened the door before I could figure out how to get her to talk.

I left Amelia in bed and followed Gage across the hall to my room. His hands were on the buttons of my shirt seconds after he turned the lock on the door. I batted them away and took a step back.

“What aren't you telling me?” I demanded.

“A lot,” he said, surprising me with his honesty. “But nothing you need to know.”

“I'd rather judge that for myself,” I said.

His hands went for my buttons again. “I know you would. You're just going to have to trust me.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” I muttered. “I don't want to trust you; I want to know what's going on. I want to know what you and Aiden aren't telling me.”

“Trust me,” Gage murmured in my ear, slipping my shirt over my shoulders and undoing the clasp of my bra with a flick of his fingers behind my back. “I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Sophie. Just trust me. Let me take care of you.”

I let out a sigh, giving in as his hand covered my breast and his lips touched mine in a slow, lazy kiss. He backed me toward the bed, helping me step out of my jeans. I was on my back a second later, his hard, hot body over mine, his hips nudging my thighs apart, the head of his hard cock sliding against me, rolling over my clit in slow circles.

I forgot to argue. I forgot how much I trusted him, and how much I didn't want to. I forgot everything but the rising sea of pleasure and his long, drugging kisses.

I’d remember in the morning. That would have to be good enough. For now, I didn't want to fight. All I wanted was Gage.