I loved it because my dad—”
The rest of the sentence died in her throat, choked by a sob.
Shannon took the movie from her and placed it on the pile on the floor. She stroked Josie’s hair. “Because your dad died when you were six and you wished you could change that?”
Josie couldn’t speak so she merely nodded. The woman who had taken her from the Paynes when she was only three weeks old had been seeing Lisette Matson’s son, Eli, on and off at the time. She returned to him after a long break-up and told him that Josie was his daughter. He had raised Josie until the age of six when he was killed. Eli had been a wonderful father—the only father Josie had ever known—and Josie had missed him terribly her entire life. It wasn’t until decades after Eli’s death that Josie found out Christian Payne was her real father. Even knowing the truth, it was difficult to think of Eli as anything but her dad.
Shannon pointed to another VHS tape. “Erin Brockovich was Trinity’s favorite.”
A small laugh escaped Josie’s mouth. “I’m not surprised.”
“Josie,” Shannon said. “It’s almost eight a.m. You haven’t slept. Noah called me.”
“He wants me to rest.”
Shannon smiled. “And eat something.”
“That sounds about right.” Josie knew he hadn’t bothered calling her to urge her to rest and eat because he knew she wouldn’t listen to him.
“I’ll make you breakfast and then you can sleep. Did you find what you were looking for?”
Josie looked at the detritus all around her. It was like a mall from the early 2000s had exploded in Shannon and Christian’s hallway. “No,” she croaked. “I don’t think it’s here.”
She stared at the mess a beat longer before Shannon took her elbow. “Leave it,” she said. “Come down to the kitchen.”
Thirty-Four
Josie sat at the island countertop watching Shannon cook up an omelet. Christian sat across from Josie, laptop open, Googling the Bone Artist, his face taking on a greenish hue as he read. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea… Dad,” Josie said.
He looked up at her, his entire face suddenly alight. As with calling Shannon “Mom”, she’d only tried out “Dad” with him once or twice before. The euphoric joy and desperate hope that washed over both their faces whenever Josie called them Mom and Dad always made her uncomfortable. It wouldn’t undo the past, nor would it fill the void her thirty-year absence had left. Josie knew this. Her entire life had been a parade of harsh truths and a nonstop roller coaster ride of even harsher realities. She just wasn’t sure the Paynes knew it. She didn’t want to be a disappointment to them.
As if sensing her discomfort, Christian looked away and when he looked back, his expression had sobered. “I know,” he agreed. “But I have to know. I can’t help myself. More information is always better. I mean, it’s not—not for my mental state—but usually the more information I have on any particular subject, the better I feel.”
“I’m kind of like that, too,” Josie said. In fact, her need to know things, to unravel mysteries and put puzzles together often put her in peril.
“Trinity was the same,” Shannon remarked over her shoulder. “When her grandmother was sick, she researched everything there was to find about lung cancer. We didn’t think it was healthy, but there was no stopping her.”
Christian gave a sad little laugh. “Remember, she thought you could develop a drug that would save her?” he said to his wife.
Shannon turned the heat off on the stove. She wiped a tear from her eye. “Oh yes. That was a low point for me as a parent—her realizing that even though I was a chemist with a major pharmaceutical company, I couldn’t save her grandmother.”
“Her realizing that her parents couldn’t save the day was the devastating part,” Christian said.
“At least you were there,” Josie said. “A safe place for her to fall, comfort when she was heartbroken.”
“I’m not sure we were any help to her at all,” Shannon said with a sigh. She used the spatula to transfer the omelet from the pan to a plate and set it in front of Josie. She hadn’t eaten since the night before, and still had no appetite, but she took the fork Shannon offered and dug in. She needed all the fuel she could get to continue searching for her sister.
“Those years after Mom died were brutal,” Christian agreed.
“So you said,” Josie said. “But she turned out just fine.”
“Did