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Sergeant Ryan spent the next twenty minutes taking statements from her and Benjamin. Exhaustion dragged at Jewell's limbs and made her eyelids heavy. She stood beside Benjamin, turned into his side, fighting the urge to rest her forehead against his chest and close her eyes.
Only when the sergeant said he was finished did Jewell manage to blink enough to focus on the officer. He shook Benjamin's hand, then tipped his hat at her, and left them alone. Benjamin wrapped his arms around her again and kissed the top of her head.
"Benjamin?" Prescott's voice came from near the door. She hadn't realized the two of them were still in the suite.
Reluctantly, Jewell pulled back and pointed in Prescott's direction. Benjamin turned, and his arms tightened a fraction around her. He still held her close against his side. Behind Prescott stood Barbara Roth, a pained and sorrowful look on her face.
"You need to leave," Benjamin ordered.
"Benjamin, just listen to us,” Prescott asked.
He pulled her tighter against his side. His hold was so intense, Jewell found it hard to breathe. She wished Barbara and Prescott would leave to give him time to digest everything. How much more did he have to go through? What else could he be expected to accept?
Benjamin's ribcage expanded beneath her hands as he took a deep breath. His head dropped forward and he nodded slowly.
"Fine."
He laced his fingers through Jewell's and they led the way to the small sitting area across from the kitchenette. She and Benjamin sat on the couch, while Barbara Roth and Ben Prescott sat in the chairs facing them. Jewell had a hard time wrapping her mind around the idea that these two were his true parents. How hard was it for Benjamin?
Jewell laid her hand on his thigh to bring his attention to her. "I'm going to go in the bedroom. Let the three of you talk," she signed.
Benjamin shook his head. "No. Stay right here."
"Benjamin, I don't belong."
His hand covered hers. "Stay."
"If my son wants you here, Jewell, so do I," Barbara Roth said in a small voice, drawing Jewell's attention.
She looked from Barbara to Prescott and finally Benjamin. His dark eyes were all she needed to see. Jewell nodded and turned her hand to squeeze his.
"Okay. I'll stay."
Benjamin slumped back on the couch, looking at Ben Prescott. "So, it's true."
Prescott nodded and looked to the woman at his side. He took her hand and Barbara tried to smile. "Yes. And you have no idea how much we've wanted to tell you."
Benjamin sat forward again, his body a bundle of nervous energy beside her, and pushed his fingers through mussed hair. "You had no right," he said in a low, half-muted voice. He lifted his head and Jewell nearly flinched at the angry twist to his lips. "To keep this from me."
"We know that now," Prescott tried to say, but Benjamin's words overrode everything else.
Benjamin pointed a finger at them. "You let him hate me. Let him beat the crap out of me. Let him hide me away and tell me how worthless I was, knowing the whole time he wasn't even my father."
"Benjamin, you don't know how many times I wanted to step in," Prescott said.
"Not enough to stop it." Benjamin's voice was cold and flat.
Jewell's heart ached in her chest. She pulled the robe tighter around her body and kept her gaze on Benjamin's face. The storm brewing behind his eyes was almost frightening.
"Did you know from the beginning?" Benjamin asked.
Barbara shook her head. "I suppose part of me suspected when I was pregnant with you. But Prescott and I had only been together once, and we both decided that could never happen again."
"Jon was ecstatic when he was told he had a son, Benjamin. I've never seen a man so proud," Prescott explained, his voice tight and tired.
"When did he find out the truth?"
Barbara took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. "Shortly after the doctors told us your condition was complete, irreversible…and genetic. You were almost three years old."
