the information she’d jotted down. “You know, I think I’ve got a friend whose mother is in this home.” She bit her lip as if pondering their choices. “I might be able to get inside, go in to see her.”
Kate’s brow lifted. “You wouldn’t be suggesting something illegal now, would you, Counselor?”
Simone frowned. “Why do you call me that?”
“What?”
“Counselor.”
Kate shrugged. “I don’t know. You are one, aren’t you? Does it bother you?”
“Yeah, I am one. And no, it doesn’t bother me. It’s just weird that you and Mitch use the same word.”
“Not so weird. Not anymore.”
Simone stood and tried to smile. “No. I guess not anymore. Tell you what. I’ll make a call, talk to my friend and find out if her mother’s really there. If she is, I’ll let you know, and we’ll decide what to do from there.”
“Okay.”
Simone gathered her things. “I’m going to meet with Ryan. You take some time and figure out what you’re going to tell him. If you want me to be there, we can set it up in the office. However you want to handle it.”
“Thanks, but I think I need to do that on my own.”
“Okay.” Simone shot her a quick smile. “I’ll call you after I speak with him today.”
Chapter Eight
Simone’s gaze snapped to the door when it pushed open. Ryan and Mitch stepped into her office, presenting a unified front.
Brothers.
Regardless of their individual characteristics, they were brothers at heart, and it showed. Ryan with his sharp, clean, good looks, and Mitch with his rugged, outdoorsy ones. They were roughly the same height and build, but so different in every other way.
She rose, stepped to Ryan, hugged him quickly. “I’m sorry for all of this.”
“Thanks.” He pulled back. “I’m sorry about Steve too. I…I should have called you.”
“It’s okay. I understand. These things are hard. They bring up emotions we don’t always want to deal with.”
He nodded. Her gaze cut to Mitch. He’d gotten a haircut and shaved off the goatee. He looked good, but she missed the wispy curls near his collar.
Dragging her gaze away from him, she rubbed her hands together. “Okay.” She moved back behind her desk, switching to lawyer mode. “Have a seat, and we’ll get started.”
“She’s not coming?” Mitch asked.
“No. I’ve already spoken with Kate. We felt it best to do this separately. She wanted time to absorb the results before she spoke with either of you.”
Mitch and Ryan exchanged glances. She noticed their apprehension and took out the test results. No sense prolonging their misery. She handed a copy to each of them. “These are the preliminary DNA reports. It’s not entirely conclusive, but I think you’ll see it’s close enough. We’ll need to get samples from your parents, Mitch, but I think we can say with ninety-eight percent accuracy, Kate Alexander is Annie Harrison.”
Ryan leaned back and closed his eyes. Heartache raced along his features, but she could tell from his quiet reaction he’d already expected this news. As Kate had said, however, knowing didn’t make any of this easier.
Mitch took his time studying the report. When he glanced up, Simone saw the pain in his eyes, too. This was hard on both of them.
She rose and moved around the desk, leaning back against the mahogany surface where she picked up another folder and handed papers to each of them. “Here are copies of her medical records. She wanted you to see them. The accident she was in damaged her face. She went through several reconstructive surgeries to both her nose and cheek areas, which is why she doesn’t look exactly like she did before.”
She waited while they each flipped through the files. “I know it’s one thing for her to say she can’t remember anything. It’s another for you to see it in black and white. She was being treated by a neurosurgeon in Houston. I’ve tried to track him down but am running into a wall. It seems like each of our leads are ending that way.”
Dismissing the thought, she added, “As far as her brain trauma, her records indicate there was some sort of damage to the lateral cortex of her anterior temporal lobe, the part of the brain that deals with long-term memory, specifically that area which focuses on personal memories. So things she learned say, in school, haven’t been affected because they’re stored in a separate part of the brain—or so the theory goes. Where she learned those facts, though, is a different story because that would be a