Page 83 of Irish Betrayal

“Blair told me that Bartel said that she was duty-bound to take Blair’s concerns seriously and would be telling the school’s administration, which clearly she did because OSU called Trinity.

“I admit to thinking the guy must be a desperate, deluded schmuck, but I didn’t believe he was dangerous. Blair blew his behavior off. She acted like it wasn’t a big deal, but—” Daniel hesitated, not sure how to describe believing Blair but…not.

Ulf took over. “Blair cringed every time that man’s name was mentioned, and she changed the subject the moment she could. He bothered her more than she was letting on.”

“Blair isn’t one to let others fight her battles, but if she told you that she would tell you everything when she got home, she meant to. I might be insulted that she would turn to you over me, except knowing your past and what you do for a living, I think she was right,” Daniel added.

Barr closed his eyes and scrubbed his face roughly, taking the moment to think about the revelations, to accept that he hadn’t known his daughter as well as he thought.

Until Thomas called with any new updates, they were all left to endure the long hours of the flight. Daniel dragged his duffel over and pulled out Blair’s notebook titled “Where INCS Fucked Up and How to Fix the Program” and handed it to Ulf, who was staring broodily out the window.

“I found this in some of Blair’s things that Mags gave me.”

Ulf scanned the cover, a smile fighting to take over his scowl. “That little shit.”

He snatched the notebook and went over to a reclining chair by Rowan, who read the cover and smiled at Daniel.

Daniel grabbed the journals that were tied together and found his own place to settle for the next few hours. Barr went to his wife and lifted her from beside their son and sat, snuggling her against his chest. Daniel watched them another moment, seeing how Barr murmured reassurances to his wife while Catriona’s small hands touched Barr’s cheeks and chest in reassurance of her own.

He envied Barr in that moment, and his parents too, as he glanced their way and his mom leaned lovingly against his side, both of them speaking quietly to one another.

Daniel worked the knotted twine apart to release the books. There were only four. He checked the inside of each cover for dates, and despite the childish handwriting and stickers on the first few, they were meticulously dated and numbered.

From the dates, each journal represented one year, ages eleven through fourteen. Daniel wondered if Blair would mention Peter Samson. She met him when she was a little girl through one of Trinity's gifted summer programs.

He didn’t expect anything really, but if there was a chance that Blair might have written anything about that bastard, anything that would give them insight, Daniel would invade her privacy. As young as she was, he doubted they would be any help, but reading her words made him feel close to her.

He needed to feel close to her.

“Here we go,” he murmured under his breath, opening the oldest when Blair was eleven.

The first journal introduced a plant-crazy eleven-year-old: drawings and diagrams of plants, preserved, pressed flowers every few pages, and stories about her best friends. Daniel found himself chuckling once when she mentioned him and Jonathan “prancing around with pimply faces.”

Halfway through, Blair wrote pages about the Trinity STEM program for kids. He remembered the first summer Blair and her Scottish friends took over the O’Faolain building.

If you had told him then that he would someday love that little redheaded imp, he would have howled with laughter. He wasn’t laughing now. Desperation was the overriding emotion.

And then, near the end of one of the entries…

I’ve been reading the Trinity’s summer docket for three years, since I was eight, and I know God had my back when it was announced this year that one of their fellow instructors, Dr. Peter Samson, would be teaching plant pathology!

Daniel skimmed further.

I almost FORGOT! Dr. Samson, Peter (he told me I could call him that because I’m special—his words, not mine), held me after class, ON THE FIRST DAY.

Daniel felt his heart thudding faster as he continued to read.

Peter told me that he likes my smile. He also said he would learn BSL.

For me.

“What the fuck?” Peter told me that he likes my smile. He might not have considered that a red flag, but knowing how obsessed the man was and how early it began…

Daniel quickly scanned the rest of the eleven-year-old journal, moving on to the second when Blair was twelve and skimmed until he got to the summer entries.

…I have the same botany instructor, Dr. Peter Samson, who is teaching a class again on pathology. AND… Wait for IT… He learned BSL. In one year!

He skipped ahead.