I sat on the couch, staring at the DNA kit on the coffee table as if it were some sort of time bomb. My parents weren’t my parents. How could that be? My mind couldn’t process it, and every time I thought about the possibility, I felt like I was unraveling.
It had to be a mistake. Some twisted game Victor was playing to get in my head. That had to be it. But the photograph in the box, the note—the more I tried to convince myself otherwise, the harder it was to ignore the gnawing feeling in my gut.
I needed answers, but instead, I was met with silence.
Grayson had been avoiding me for days. Calls went unanswered, texts were ignored, and when I’d shown up at the Cross mansion, Asher and Aiden both said he wasn’t there. But I knew better.
Grayson didn’t just vanish. He was hiding.
I finally caught up with him outside school one afternoon. He was leaning against his car, scrolling through his phone, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. The sight of him infuriated me.
“Grayson!” I called, walking straight toward him.
He looked up, startled, and for a split second, I saw guilt flash across his face. But he quickly masked it, straightening up as I approached.
“Lila,” he said, his tone cautious. “What are you doing here?”
I stopped in front of him, crossing my arms. “What am I doing here? I’ve been trying to talk to you for days, and you’ve been ignoring me. What the hell is going on, Grayson?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m busy, Lila. There’s a lot going on right now.”
“Don’t give me that,” I snapped. “You’re avoiding me. Why won’t you talk to me? What are you hiding this time?”
“I’m not hiding anything,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction.
“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost every time I get close to you?” I demanded. “Why won’t you answer my calls? My texts? You’re shutting me out, Grayson, and I’m not going to stand here and let you pretend everything’s fine when it’s not.”
His jaw tightened, and he looked away, refusing to meet my gaze. “I’m doing what’s best for you,” he said finally, his voice low.
“What’s best for me?” I repeated, disbelief and anger bubbling to the surface. “You think ignoring me, lying to me, and shutting me out is what’s best for me?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice sharp now. “Because every time you get involved, things get worse. You don’t understand what’s happening, Lila. You’re in over your head.”
“Then help me understand!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “You’re the one who pulled me into this, Grayson. You’re the one who said you’d protect me. And now you’re pushing me away? You don’t get to make that choice for me.”
He turned back to me, his eyes filled with frustration and something else—pain. “I’m trying to protect you, Lila. Can’t you see that? If you keep digging, if you keep pushing, it’s only going to get worse. For you, for your family, for everyone.”
“My family?” I said bitterly. “You mean the people I just found out might not even be my real parents? Did you know about that, Grayson? Did you?”
His face paled, and for a moment, I thought he might answer. But then he shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“I can’t do this right now,” he said, stepping around me to open his car door.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” I said, grabbing his arm.
He stopped, looking at me with a mixture of guilt and regret. “Lila, I’m doing this for you. You might hate me for it, but one day, you’ll understand.”
I let go of his arm, my chest tightening as I watched him get into his car and drive off without another word.
That evening, the apartment felt emptier than ever. I tried distracting myself by going through the DNA kit again, but the weight of everything was too much. Grayson’s words played in my head on a loop: I’m doing this for you.
But I didn’t believe him. Not entirely.
As I sat by the window, staring out at the dark street, I heard a faint noise—muffled shouting. I frowned, leaning closer to the glass. The voice was familiar, and it was coming from the alley next to the apartment building.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I slipped on my jacket, stepping outside quietly.
When I reached the alley, I stopped in my tracks. Grayson was there, pacing back and forth with his phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low, angry, and I could only make out bits and pieces of what he was saying.
“I don’t care what you do to me,” he growled. “Leave her alone.”
My heart sank. Who was he talking to?