by Dani Collins
“All the headlines are saying it’s Oriel,” Angela said with concern. “Even my clients are starting to talk about how much you look like her. I don’t know how long I can pretend it’s all a coincidence.”
“I know. I’m sorry. This feels like a bomb going off in slow motion,” Nina said, distressed at the thought of Reve being freshly linked to Oriel.
She didn’t tell Angela what Reve was doing right now—or that Reve had basically broken up with her. Again. She finished the call and went into the bathroom to set a cool cloth over her eyes, trying to keep from tearing up with despair.
You want the kind of love you’ve always known.
She did. And she wanted that love with him. She was falling in love with him all over again—this time far more deeply because she knew him more intimately. He could throw his checkered past at her all he wanted, and it didn’t change the fact that he’d been playing human shield since she had run into his penthouse ten days ago. He could say he was only betting on a horse with his investment in her work, but he had removed any obstacles between her and her long-held dream.
She was prepared to compromise those things she had always wanted because a greater want was taking its place inside her: Reve. She wanted Reve in her life.
I won’t let you settle for less because we happen to be good in bed.
Was that all it was for him?
Did it matter what he felt? He’d been through a lot at the hands of others. He had told her no one had ever looked out for him. The last thing she wanted was to be as callous about consequences to him as everyone else seemed to have been. She knew he was trying to protect her from himself, but maybe she had to protect him from herself, too.
With gritty eyes and the deepest ache in her heart, she went back to the office and found him at the desk, files stacked before him. He had his laptop open and was using his phone to photograph documents. Drawers in the credenza were half-open.
Her heart leaped. “You got in?”
“Yes, but everything is in German.”
“Oh. Of course.” She moved to the sofa and dropped to sit, pretty much defeated by the weight of stress and problems surrounding her.
“I’m converting it to English through a translation app.”
“Oh?” She perked up. “Have you learned anything?”
“That stolen evidence is not admissible in court—or so my lawyer tells me. He absolutely, positively advises I do not make copies of anything I have found on these premises without the express permission of the owners. I told him to draft a request for permission, which I will forward to them the minute I’m done here.”
She gave a halfhearted laugh, struck by the sheer absurdity of this situation, then asked, “Do you want help?”
“I’ve got a system going. But listen, from what I’ve read so far...” He turned another page, clicked his phone over it. He glanced at the image, tapped, then looked to his laptop, where he tapped a few keys. “I don’t want to make any decisions for you that should be yours, but this has to be shared with the Dalal family. Your family got screwed, Nina. You did.”
That wasn’t news, yet her mouth began to tremble. “How?”
A click, a tap, a sharp glance.
“Take a minute to be sure. This will be difficult to hear.”
“I need to know, Reve. Tell me.”
Reve hesitated one more second, then tapped his laptop and read aloud, “‘Female presenting at twenty weeks.’ Lakshmi, when she first arrived,” he clarified. “‘Midwife suggests possible multiple pregnancy. Scan for confirmation declined.’”
“Declined by who?”
“Lakshmi’s manager, Gouresh Bakshi. He was running interference.” Reve tapped a few more keys. “She had sixteen weekly visits from the midwife, then, ‘Twin girls delivered on either side of midnight. Maternal distress, a transfusion...’ She doesn’t regain consciousness for a couple of days. While she was out it says, ‘Baby Monday placed as arranged.’ You should see Lakshmi’s signature on the documents.” He ruffled through the pages. “I’m no expert, but it’s a man’s handwriting.”
“Of course it is. She was unconscious! Is that really what they called us?” It was a good thing she was sitting down. She felt sick.
Reve’s expression softened. “I’m afraid so.” He tapped a file. “In this one, it says Baby Tuesday was placed with an American family. There’s also a confirmation for a wire transfer for a revoltingly high payment with a note that labels it ‘discretionary.’ The banking info ties into the other payments from Bakshi for Lakshmi’s care.”
“Oh, my God.” Nina buried her face in her hands.
“I know. Nina, I’m sorry.” He rose and came to crouch before her, taking her cold hands.
“Who does something so awful to a woman who is so vulnerable and—”
“You were all vulnerable. He did that to all three of you.”
“He just gave us away like p-puppies.”
Reve shifted onto the couch and drew her into his lap. Nina should have been cried out, but these tears were different. They were for Lakshmi and Oriel and herself. She was breaking into agonized pieces as she imagined her birth mother awakening and learning her babies were gone, gone, gone.
“I feel so robbed.”
“You were.” He was rubbing her back, setting kisses on her hair. “You all were.” He held her in strong, safe arms while she completely fell apart.
She wept until her eyes swelled shut and her whole body ached with grief.
* * *
“Nina.”
Reve’s raspy voice and the feel of his hand rubbing her arm dragged her awake.
She blinked eyes that felt like sandpaper and found herself in the den. Morning sunlight was beaming through the window. She had a blanket over her, a pillow tucked under her head.
“What—?”
“Farrah’s making breakfast. There’s a woman downstairs who wants to meet you.”
“Oriel?” Her heart leaped into her mouth. She sat up so fast Reve had to lean back to avoid her forehead crashing into his unshaved chin.
“No. But I got a message from my doorman in Paris. Oriel came looking for you there.”
Her head throbbed, and she couldn’t hear anything but the blood in her ears. She was disoriented. Her heart was seesawing in her chest. She grasped at Reve’s arm and he steadied her, but there was a stiffness to his touch, as though he was holding her off. The remoteness in his expression caused her unsteady heart to plummet into freefall.
Don’t, she wanted to cry, as everything came rushing back to her. Still, she couldn’t keep leaning on him. It wasn’t fair to either of them.
She drew her hands into her lap and tried to catch up to what he was saying.
“How did she know—?”
“There’s a photo of us online that people are saying is her. She must have tracked you to being with me.”
“Oh, I forgot,” she sighed. “Angela told me about that photo. I meant to tell you, but...” She looked to the credenza. All the drawers were safely closed, the tablecloth in place, and all the files were gone from the desk.
“I’ve booked a helicopter to take us to Paris as soon as we’ve eaten.”
She noticed he was still wearing yesterday’s clothes. “Have you slept?”
“No. Do you want come downstairs? This woman is married to the man who owns the café.”
“Oh. Yes. Okay.” She staggered down the hall to the master bedroom and made herself presentable.
When she came down, Reve was sipping a coffee at the windows. Farrah was gone and a woman of about fifty was on the sofa. There was a cup of coffee steaming on the table in front of her, but she had her hands clutched anxiously over her purse.
The air was so thick with tension it could have been sliced and fried.
The woman stood when Nina ap
peared. She searched Nina’s face as Nina offered a faint smile. “Hello.”
“I’m sorry to come here uninvited. I’m Inga Klein.” She offered her hand. “Your, um...” She looked to Reve. “Your friend left his card with my husband yesterday and said you were staying here. My husband thought he was a reporter. I’ve just explained that my father-in-law has dementia. He doesn’t have any information that would be helpful.”
“I see.” Nina looked to Reve, unsure if she should offer her real name. “I’m, um...”
“The other one,” Inga said with a sad nod of wonder. “You’re not Oriel Cuvier. I’ve been following her story very closely. As soon as my husband showed me the card last night, I knew you weren’t her. You’re the other one. Aren’t you?”
“You know?” Nina felt Reve’s hand take hold of her arm and ease her toward the sofa. Her knees felt like jelly.
“I didn’t know.” Inga sank back into her seat. “It was a suspicion that has haunted me for years.” Her gaze pleaded for understanding. “I was fifteen when I got a job as a maid, cleaning cottages for the rich people being treated at the clinic. It was impressed upon me that I could never talk about anything I heard or saw.”
Inga nervously clicked the clasp on her purse.
“I saw a lot of strange things. Eventually the Indian couple were just one more odd memory I locked away, but I’ve always wondered what happened to her. You look just like I remember her.” She sent an unsteady smile, then looked down again, growing somber. “They claimed to be married, but they fought constantly. Not in English. I only guessed that it was about her pregnancy. She cried when he wasn’t around.”
She clicked open her purse and darted her hand into it, bringing out a folded sheet of paper with scorched edges. She offered it.
“She wrote letters and threw them into the fire when he got home. I don’t know why I took this one. It has always tortured my conscience that I did, but once I had it, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. I think it’s to your father.”
Nina accepted it but was too upset to make head or tail of it.
“We can read it in a minute.” Reve gave her shoulder a bolstering squeeze. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”
“Only that I came to work one day and he said she’d gone into labor the night before. He said I should pack their things because they would leave from the clinic as soon as she was discharged. He went out and I don’t think he knew I was still there when he got back because I overheard him on the phone. He was speaking English and asked for Dr. Wagner. He asked if the woman who came in from the café had survived. Then he said, ‘That’s what we can do with the other one. Give it to her family. Tell them it was hers.’ He said, ‘Name your price.’”
Tears of remorse stood in Inga’s eyes.
“I’m very sorry. My English wasn’t very good. I thought I misunderstood. I was concerned about the mother, but no one connected to the clinic would tell me anything. When Oriel Cuvier began making headlines, I dug out the letter to see if there was a clue I’d missed. I’ve been trying to decide what to do with it. May I leave it with you?”
“Of course. Thank you,” Nina said in a daze.
They thanked Inga and took her information, then Reve read the letter to Nina. The sentences were cut off by the burned sections of pages, but it sounded as though her biological father had had a son who was sick and Lakshmi had understood his need to be there for the boy.
“‘...and when it’s time he insists I must give it up...’” Reve continued. “She’s referring to Bakshi, I imagine.”
“‘It...’” Nina repeated, latching on to the word. “Not them. She didn’t know she was having twins.”
“Doesn’t sound like it. The last line is ‘...know what else to do. I wish you were here to...’”
“She sounds so tortured—and also as if she loved him.” Her heart wrenched and twisted with bittersweet consolation. As she looked at the man she wanted and couldn’t have, she knew exactly how her mother had felt. Torn, helpless and devastated.
* * *
Reve slept through the helicopter flight to Paris and only noticed how quiet and withdrawn Nina was as they drove into the city.
“Okay?” He tried to still the fingers she was liable to twist right off her hands.
“Hmm? Oh. Yes. You didn’t have to come with me,” she murmured. “This is when we said we would part ways,” she reminded him with somber tension across her cheekbones. “I need to see her, Reve. I can’t put it off any longer.”
Her eyes said, Even for you.
“I know.” He’d had a lot of time to think last night while she’d slept and he’d copied records. The more he realized what she was up against, the less he was able to leave her to it. He was confident the family of Lakshmi Dalal would pursue justice, but the only reason Oriel was so well protected was because her adoptive parents were wealthy and was married to a VP of TecSec. Reve would like to believe they would help Nina navigate all of this, but he didn’t know that. He couldn’t walk away until he was sure Nina would be safe.
“I want to meet her with you. See how she reacts.”
“You know I’m too freaked-out to be brave, right?” She reached across and closed her clammy hand over his. “I know I should be saying I can do this alone, but...”
“I won’t let you.” He sandwiched her trembling fingers between his warm palms and directed the driver to Oriel’s building. As they approached, they saw a throng of paparazzi lingering around the entrance.
“Looks like she’s home,” Reve said. “Do you want to go in? Or call her from my place?”
“In.” She nodded convulsively.
They waited in the car while the driver went to the door.
As the driver rang the bell, the photographers began sniffing at the car’s tinted windows, trying to see inside. A man in a dark suit appeared. A bodyguard, if Reve had to guess. He took Reve’s card from the driver and glanced toward their car, nodding. He held the building’s entrance door open while the driver came back.
Nina’s hand tightened in Reve’s right before the car door opened.
They stepped out and the paparazzi went wild.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE PHOTOGRAPHERS MUST have been baffled as to how Oriel had left the building without them knowing. Now she was with Reve?
Reve had glued her to his side with an arm that nearly cut off Nina’s ability to breathe. He walked so fast her feet barely touched the ground, whisking her through the downpour of questions in French, Hindi and English.
“Oriel! Did you leave your husband? What is your relationship with Mr. Weston?”
Reve elbowed one of them who got too close, and then they were inside the building. The din faded as the bodyguard firmly shut the door and directed them up the stairs.
When Reve released her, Nina still couldn’t breathe. She glanced at him in weak apology for putting him through the media storm and hurried up the stairs on shaking knees. The man who’d let them in brought her to a door guarded by another man. He knocked for her.
She blindly reached for Reve’s hand. Her vision was getting fuzzy around the edges. Her heart was all she heard as she waited. Thump, thump, thump.
The door opened.
The woman who stood on the other side was a version of herself that was more polished, a tiny bit taller, with a face that was a smidgen softer. If Reve’s hand hadn’t been crushing hers, Nina would have felt completely untethered to reality, as though she occupied two timelines and was committing the mortal sin of disrupting the space-time continuum.
Someone said something. Her ears were rushing with her hammering pulse. Her eyes were glossing and blinking in time with her reflection’s. Her throat was dry, the air in her lungs growing thin. Weirdly, amid all that sensory confusion, the butterflies in her stomach settled into placid stillness, as though they were
coming to rest after migrating across a continent.
It’s been so long.
She didn’t know if the voice was in her head or Oriel’s as Oriel moved in the same split second Nina did. They stepped into a hug, and the most incredible sense of homecoming swamped her.
You’re back, the voice in her head said. She was hugging a person she had no memory of knowing, but it was good and right and all she could think was, I missed you.
* * *
The piercing whistle of a teakettle startled the women apart.
Reve said, “You two sit down. I’ll get that.” He pressed them into the flat and closed the door.
He needed a minute. Reading about the cold and calculating way Nina had been separated from her mother and sister had filled him with outrage, yet he hadn’t expected to feel this moved by her reunion with Oriel. He wanted Nina to be happy so it made sense that seeing her happy would please him, but this was exponentially more than that. His eyes were wet, and he didn’t feel as though his sternum could withstand the pressure behind it as he went to silence the kettle.
He listened as he made coffee, though the women seemed too overcome to speak. They still hadn’t spoken by the time he brought out two cups.
Oriel looked like a 3D copy of Nina. Like a wax figure in a museum. She was pregnant, he recalled, but it wasn’t obvious.
Reve had the weirdest thought, though. This was how Nina would look if she was expecting—glowing with happiness.
A jagged truth tugged on his conscience. You can’t cheat her of that.
“Do we need introductions?” Reve gave Nina’s shoulder a squeeze to remind her he was here if she needed him. “I’m Reve. This is Nina.”
“Oriel. Forgive me, I’m still in shock from learning about my birth mother. I had no idea I had a twin.” She spoke in Nina’s voice with a French accent, and Reve instantly liked her for it. Well, that and for the radiant smile she’d put on Nina’s face.