Page 135 of Anton

A throb hits my throat. I wish I’d known them.

“And I remember you too.” Her grin widens. “You were a cute little thing, always on your mama’s hip or sitting in the grass with that older girl from next door trying to make you laugh. Big eyes, dark curls, serious little face until someone earned a smile from you.”

Anton’s grip tightens, and I realize I’m holding my breath.

“They loved you,” June says, like she knows that’s what I really need, like she can see the empty place inside me. “That much I can tell you for certain. Your mama used to sit right there on that porch with you in her lap, singing to you when the weather was nice, and your daddy looked at both of you like he couldn’t believe he got to keep you.”

My eyes burn so fast, I have to look down. Anton’s hand closes more firmly around mine, and I let myself hold on because I need that reassurance from him.

“They didn’t have any other children?”

“Not that I ever saw.” June purses her lips, thinking it over. “Unless they were hiding someone in that house.” She laughs. “But no, it was just you.”

“Do you know if I had grandparents, aunts, uncles? Anyone?” The questions come faster now, desperation taking hold.

“Well…” June presses her lips together, searching her memory. “Your mama mentioned a sister once, I think. Kentucky, maybe. I wish I could remember a name.”

“Kentucky. Okay, thank you.”

“It might have been Kentucky. I wouldn’t swear to it.” Her face pinches with regret. “I’m sorry I can’t give you more.”

“No, that’s okay.” I force myself to face the disappointment, but it’s more than I had an hour ago. “This helps. It really does.”

“Leave me your number.” June reaches for a notepad on the little table beside her. “If anything else comes back to me, even the smallest thing, I’ll call you.”

I give it to her, watching as she writes my name, and the sight of her spelling Penny instead of Thora makes me feel strange.

“I’m glad you came,” she says. “They would be too.”

The tears rise again, but I swallow them down and nod. “Thank you again for your time.”

When we leave, Anton leads me back to the car and buckles my seat belt while I stare at nothing ahead of me.

“We’ll find your aunt if she exists. I promise.”

A heaviness settles behind my ribs as I look over at him, wanting so badly to believe him.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

ANTON

We drive back toward the hotel with Thora’s face turned to the window and her hand still in mine, her fingers digging into my palm every so often.

I hate seeing her this way, especially when there’s no one to kill or threaten and no way for me to fix it. But instead of thinking about how to help her, my mind keeps circling back to what she said.

She loves me? Why would she say that?

She doesn’t love me. No one can.

Still, the words repeat until they begin to feel real.

We drive in silence until the road curves, and Thora straightens in her seat, her eyes brightening.

“Hey, can we stop here?”

“Why?”

When I pull onto the shoulder of the deserted road, she turns toward me, stars sparkling in her eyes.