Isabelle

“I swear, my mother never kept anything. You’d think that after a lifetime, she’d at least have more than just a few pictures stashed away. But no…she wasn’t sentimental in the least. Was she?” I set aside the single box I’d found, frustrated with my mother once more. And I hated that my anger and frustration with her was keeping me from mourning her properly. “Don’t go thinking that our home in London is any better.”

Cupping the back of my neck, Slater pulled me close and quickly kissed the top of my head, as if to remind me that we’d find a way to figure this out. “Remember…if she did keep any info on the adoption, she wouldn’t put it where it might be easily found. In the meantime, I’m going to contact my brother and see if he can help us out. He’s usually pretty good at finding people, though I’m not sure how much luck he’ll have when we don’t really have a whole lot for him to go on.”

“I hate to drag your family into my problems, but I’d really appreciate any help.” At least with Slater at my side, it felt like there was a glimmer of hope.

“I’m going to send him all the info we have right now. See if he can access the adoption or hospital records to see if there’s any additional information there.” Slater already had his phone out and was texting his brother, sending along a snapshot of Andrew’s birth certificate. “Hopefully it won’t take him long to find some more info. Anything to give us more of a direction.”

“Will they give him the adoption records if he’s not family?” I wasn’t sure of all the legalities, but I had no doubt there would be rules put in place to protect the identities of everyone involved, on the off chance they didn’t want to be found.

“My brother doesn’t let much stand in his way when he’s looking for something.” He let out a weary sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed, grabbing my hand and pulling me to him. “Izzy…my family isn’t like most.”

“I think every family has its quirks and dysfunctions. I mean, look at mine.” I threw up my hands, blinking back the tears and hating that Slater was always having to deal with me falling apart yet again. “And from what I’ve seen, you…your mother…your cousins…you all care about each other deeply—and I’m sure it’s no different with your brothers. I, on the other hand…”

I’d seen how his mother looked at him, with such love and caring, and it had only made me realize how much I’d missed that sort of affection. I’d had it with my father, but he’d passed so long ago. And my mother? She’d always left me wondering if having me was simply something she’d done to keep my father.

“Izzy, I know you’ve been having a hard time dealing with the sort of relationship you had with your mother. But you must know that she loved you—even if it was in her own way.” He cupped my face in his hands, pulling me to him, his lips catching mine in a whisper of a kiss. “Families are fucked up—mine included. But it doesn’t mean we don’t love each other.”

There was something bothering Slater and weighing on him heavily. That much was obvious from the tension in his shoulders and the lines creasing his brow. “What’s got you looking so worried? You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know, love. And I will. I’ll tell you everything you want to know. But for now, I want to focus on finding your brother.” Slater looked around the room. “Is there anywhere else your mom might stash things away from view?”

I mulled it over, trying to think. Where would she hide something that was both a secret and yet incredibly personal? “Her closet maybe? It’s certainly big enough.”

We wandered into the closet, which really was the size of a studio apartment, the walls lined with shelves of clothes, shoes, and handbags, along with walls of dresses and separates, all neatly hung. I didn’t see anything obvious, though I supposed her hat boxes might hold a few secrets.

“Right here, love.” Slater had pushed aside a row of blouses to reveal a wall safe—one of the old-fashioned kind with the dial, since chances were good the safe had been there for the better part of a century. “Don’t suppose you know the combination?”

“Not a clue. Maybe her birthday?” I stepped up to the safe and gave the combination a try. “No luck.”

“Try your birthday? Or the date of your parents’ anniversary?” Both of Slater’s suggestions would be great if my mother had had a sentimental bone in her body. But I highly doubted any of those combinations would work. “Or…maybe your brother’s birthday?”

“Maybe.” I gave all three of them a try, not terribly surprised when none of them worked. “Of course not.”

Every time something came up that might change my opinion of my mother and prove me wrong—prove that my mother did indeed care about me or our family—it never happened. Instead I was left disappointed once again, and absolutely no closer to finding Andrew.

“Let me call my brother. Dane…he’s good with this sort of thing. Sort of my family’s computer expert, as it were. I’ll just have to let him know what type of safe.” His brow furrowed with deep lines as he pulled out his phone and stepped out of the closet and into the bedroom, leaving me to wonder just how someone would get to be good at breaking into a safe.

Because I had a sneaking suspicion that Slater’s brother wasn’t a locksmith.