Of course Andros didn’t know my size. Nothing he ever gave me was purchased by him directly. He gave orders. Others followed.
“It’s lovely, Marion.” Rather ostentatious, but lovely. “I’m not interested. I don’t care that you wasted millions of dollars in a deal with Andros or that you wasted money on that farce of a symbol of servitude. That’s your doing, not mine. I care about my daughter and my freedom. I don’t give a damn what you and Andros decided. The truth is I’ve done my time. I won’t marry you.”
He extended his hand, bringing the ring closer to me. “Try it on, little lady.”
“Marion, I can’t and won’t.”
“You already have.”
Patrick
The room around us stilled, settling in prevailing silence. Mason and I stared between Sparrow and Reid as Reid’s findings echoed in our heads: “No,” Reid had said to Sparrow. “You’re not Ruby’s father. Dr. Dixon and I consulted Laurel; we are all in agreement that while you’re not Ruby’s father, genetically you’re related—statistically, closely related.”
Sparrow was still standing, his hand going to his hair as his bicep bulged beneath the sleeve of his white pressed shirt. His leather loafers began to move as the buttons on his shirt beneath his tie fought against his deep breaths. “This…this doesn’t make sense,” he said, sounding less sure than a moment before.
I replayed Reid’s announcement in my head and asked, “Can you be more specific on closely related?”
Reid took a deep breath and reaching for one of the chairs, spun it around, and lowered himself to straddle the back. “We could learn more if we had Madeline’s DNA. Here’s the thing. Even though, Sparrow, you have similar markers to Ruby, you don’t have any statistically significant markers in common with Patrick.”
The two of us looked at one another.
“You’re saying Sparrow and I aren’t related,” I said.
“That’s what I’m saying,” Reid confirmed. “That means for Ruby to be related to Sparrow, the missing piece to this equation is Madeline.”
I shook my head. “I agree with Sparrow…this is ridiculous. I met Madeline, shit, nearly twenty years ago. We were both fifteen years old.”
“When you were living on the street,” Mason interjected.
“Did you know?” I asked Mason. “Did Laurel give you a heads up?”
Mason set his coffee mug on the floor near his chair. “No, man, I came here because of Reid’s text. Laurel didn’t say a word.”
Reid sheepishly grinned. “Don’t blame her. It was my idea. I thought it was better if everyone learned together. This way we’re avoiding assumptions.”
“So how old is she?” Sparrow asked.
I leaned back. “She? Ruby? Sixteen.”
“No,” Sparrow said, “Madeline. How old is she? You said you were both fifteen, and I know how old you are.”
We were all relatively the same age, all entering the military at eighteen.
“Her birthday was this month.” I thought about the date. “She’s the same age as I am—same as you.”
Sparrow’s head was shaking. “Fuck.” He continued pacing. “Closely related…my parents are both only children. I’m an only child. How does that account for closely related?” He looked to me. “What do you know about Madeline’s parents?”
“Not much. They died in a car accident when Madeline was twelve. We talked about it but not in detail. There was no one to care for her after they were gone. No family. No anyone. She was too young to understand why everything they owned was taken away.”
“Debt,” Mason said, “would be my guess.”
“Hell,” I went on, “I don’t know if they had a house or an apartment. They lived in the suburbs. Madeline made it to the part of town where we met by taking a bus away from the last foster home. When her parents died, she was abandoned. She went into the foster-care system and hated it. She didn’t last long in any one house, either her doing or theirs. She was fourteen when she walked out of the last one. I remember a story about babies and a foster mom who drank too much.”
“Her parents’ names?” Reid asked, as he turned toward the computer.
“Tate.” I thought back. “Her father’s name was William, I think. I know her mother’s, for sure. It’s a unique name, Alycia.”
“I’ll see what I can find,” Reid said.
It was Mason’s turn to talk. “What if Ivanov knew?”
“Knew what?” Sparrow snapped.
Taking a deep breath, Mason stood. “Hear me out. What if Ivanov knew that Madeline was closely related to the ruler of Chicago? What if he sent her here, not as a distraction