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I swallow thickly and straighten before turning to meet Jesse’s eyes. He searches my gaze for a moment before he finally speaks.
“You recognized them.”
It’s a statement, not a question, but I nod in response, anyway.
“They were my parents, Jesse. My adoptive parents. But somehow…younger. I don’t know… How? Why?”
My words are broken and filled with anguish as I finally say them aloud.
Joseph and Barbara Walsh, the kindly, older couple that wanted a baby so badly and found an infant abandoned on the church steps…
Or were they Evie Grundelier and…whatever his name is, a young couple giving birth to their own flesh and blood in secret, a child that, for some reason, needed to remain hidden from the world?
Gripping the chain of my necklace, I pull it free of my dress and wrap my fingers around the pendant. I squeeze it so hard, the metal edges dig into my palm, but nothing happens. It doesn’t grow hot, and it doesn’t throw me back into the vision so I can see if I really saw what I think I saw.
“We’ll figure this out,” Jesse says gently as he pulls me back against his chest. “We won’t stop until we find the truth.”
I nod against his chest even though I’m not sure I want to know. Because if what I saw was, indeed, the truth, that can only mean one thing.
My entire life was a lie.
31
A DISTRACTION
“Wait…what?”
I look at Steph with pleading eyes. “You should go lie down. You shouldn’t be dealing with my problems, today of all days.”
I’ve just told her, Erik and Leif the details of my vision, and while the Vikings look as stoic and unreadable as ever, Steph is obviously as confused as I am.
“No,” she says, shaking her head vigorously. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ve been right by my side through all of this, and I intend to be the same rock for you.”
I appreciate her offer of support, but she looks exhausted. Her eyes are swollen and red from crying, her cheeks are sunken, and her entire body looks frail. But despite all that, there’s a fire of determination in her expression that tells me she’s not going to relent. I look to Erik for help, but he only shakes his head subtly.
He knows when to pick his battles, and this is one neither of us can win.
Looking back at Steph, I let my shoulders sag with defeat. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” she says, shaking her head like telling her to leave was the stupidest thing I could’ve said. “So, let me see if I have this straight. Your adoptive parents are really your birth parents, but they were much younger in the vision than they were when you were growing up?”
“That’s the gist of it, yeah,” I say, my own exhaustion seeping into my voice.
She’s quiet for a long moment, then nods slowly. “That makes sense, actually.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “It makes zero sense to me.”
“Think about it. For some reason, Bethany Grundelier kept her own child a secret and allowed the entire witch community to believe her bloodline died out. There had to be a reason for that. A good one. If your mother was a descendant of that line, and we now know she was, she’d have to hide her lineage and that of her own children. Ever since we found out you are a Grundelier witch, we’ve assumed your mother bound your powers and abandoned you to keep that secret. But Eden…” She pauses, her eyes filling with tears as a slight smile curves her lips. “…they didn’t abandon you. They bound your powers and hid their own identities so they could raise you, themselves. Because they loved you too much to let you go.”
A flash of hope surges through me as I look at the floor and consider her theory. It does make sense, actually. What other reason would my parents have for lying to me and everyone else about my start in life? My eyes snap back up to Steph.
“What about their age difference? They were in their late forties when I was born and pushing seventy when they died. But in my vision, they appeared to be in their mid-twenties.”
Steph rolls her eyes, then smiles to soften her reaction. “Magic. They could’ve cast a simple spell to appear older than they were.”
I shake my head. “But wouldn’t that put them in danger of being found? Grundelier magic is distinct, as we found out in New Orleans. Any witch in the vicinity would’ve felt that power and recognized it, right?”
Her face scrunches up. “You’re right.”
