Page 49 of Fatal Pattern

Blade pushed back from the workstation and went to Tori. His hands found her shoulders, and he swiveled her to face him. Her dark eyes glistened. “Tor, I’m so sorry. How awful.”

Behind him, he could feel Kiara’s presence, could sense her watching him comfort Tori. Maybe this made her uncomfortable, seeing how naturally he moved to shield Tori from pain. But Kiara would understand—she had to. Right now, nothing else mattered except giving Tori something solid to lean against while she processed another devastating loss.

Tori swiped her nose with the back of her good hand. “I just—I wish I’d known. All these years . . . A sister.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “She would’ve been born in September.”

Another loss to add to Tori’s collection. Parents she couldn’t remember. Ten foster homes she’d cycled through, the last one a family who would have kept her. And now this. A sister who’d never drawn a breath. Never had a chance.

His thumbs traced gentle circles against her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

Inadequate, he knew, but what else could he say?

Tori nodded and straightened, pulling herself together. She turned back toward the screen, but he left one hand on her arm.

“Keep going, Kiara,” she said. “I need to see the rest.”

“You sure?” Kiara looked between them, but Blade gave her a subtle nod to let her know it was okay. Tori would read it herself if Kiara didn’t.

Kiara drew in a breath and read, “Survivors found at scene: Victoria Crew, female. Nikos Crew Jr., male.”

Tori’s head jerked up to look at him. Eyes wide, mouth parted, locked on those words that punched the air out of the room.

Blade felt the ground shift beneath him, and his fingers tightened on Tori as he stared at the screen. Not just one survivor. Two. Two children found at that crime scene.

“You have a brother?” Kiara asked.

Tori’s hand moved to her throat, fingers tracing the scabbed cut there. “I have a brother.”

14

Tori felt like she might throw up. A sister. A helpless infant murdered while still in her mother’s womb. Who could do such a thing? Who could stab a woman carrying a baby? The room swayed, and she grabbed the edges of her chair to steady herself. But there were survivors—plural.

She stared at the screen until the letters blurred.

Nikos Crew Jr., male.

A brother.

She had a brother.

Two survivors. The truth sat in her chest like a stone, too heavy to lift, too sharp to ignore. Every foster home. Every birthday. Every Christmas morning when she’d wondered if somewhere out there was family who remembered her . . . There had been. A boy who’d survived the same nightmare, who’d hidden somewhere in the same house while their parents bled out in their bedroom.

“Tori.” Blade’s voice sounded far away. He took his hand off her and tapped the monitor. “Look here. At the date of birth.”

She forced her eyes to focus. DOB: 04/15/1994.

April fifteenth. Her birthday.

“I have a twin . . .”

The information sent her spiraling. Not just a brother. A twin. Someone who’d shared her mother’s womb. Someone who’d been ripped away before she could even form memories of his face. Her hands trembled in her lap. Years of believing she was alone, of carrying the guilt of being the only one who’d survived.

All of it, a lie.

Kiara looked at her with wide-eyed confusion. “You didn’t know? About your brother?”

“No, I never knew.” Tori’s pulse hammered against her throat. “And I never would have if you hadn’t done this. Kiara, I owe you—” She leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Kiara’s cheek. “I owe you everything for this.”

Kiara blinked, touching her cheek where Tori’s lips had been.