Her father’s gray-blue gaze became enflamed with fury. He stormed across the room to one of three mahogany file cabinets. Evie watched as he unlocked the top drawer and began skimming through the folders inside.
“You still think your mother was so perfect?” His movements were rough. Angry. “What am I saying? Of course, you do. But that’s only because she never told you the truth.”
“Wow.” Evie crossed her arms at her chest. “Typical Mitchell patriarch fashion. I point out your shortcomings, and you start trying to turn the conversation around to the only parent who ever seemed to care about me. A woman who isn’t even here todefendherself.”
“Your mother wasn’t as perfect as she led you to believe.” Her father yanked a folder free and slammed the cabinet drawer shut. “Not even close.”
He tossed the folder down onto the desk. It slid to a stop directly in front of where Evie was standing.
“Go ahead.” The infuriated man motioned for her to pick it up. “See for yourself.”
CHAPTER TEN
Uncertainty caused Evie to hesitate to do as directed and open the folder. Whatever was inside couldn’t be good—not if her father saw it as ammunition against her own mother.
But if there was one thing she’d learned in recent weeks, it was that she was a hell of a lot stronger than even she gave herself credit for.
You survived being held captive by monsters. Surely, you can handle whatever he thinks he has in his corner.
Evie opened the folder and looked inside. At first, she wasn’t sure what she was seeing. But then…
“These are DNA test results.” She glanced back at the top of the page and frowned. “From thirty years ago.”
Her stomach churned with dread as her father began to explain.
“You’d just turned two. You had a head full of short, dark curls, and your eyes were too big for your face. In fact…” He shoved his hands into his dress pants pockets. “The only real noticeable difference between pictures of your mother at that same age and you are those dimples of yours.”
My dimples?
“I don’t understand.” Evie stared back at him. “What does any of this have to do with?—”
“Your mother didn’t have dimples. No one in her family did. Obviously, I don’t possess that particular trait, nor does anyone I know from the Mitchell side.”
When he didn’t continue, she exhaled impatiently and started to close the folder. “I’m not sure what it is you’re rambling about, or what point it is you think you’re making, but?—”
“Those men who took you.” Her father slowly brought himself closer. “They called and demanded I buy my daughter’s freedom.”
“And you lied,” she bit back. “They told you they would kill me…I told you they were going to kill me…and youliedand said you didn’t have a daughter.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” He removed his hands from his pockets and shook his head slowly. “I spoke the truth.”
Her father had gone mad. That was the only explanation for his confusing rant. Of course, he’d lied. And how he could stand here and even attempt to say otherwise?—
Evie glanced back down at the decades-old DNA test. Studying it closely, she took the time to read the details she’d previously ignored.
According to the report, the primary sample tested had come from her biological father. And the name listed by the results from the sample that had been tested…
It can’t be true. It can’t?—
Her eyes flew back up to a man who, up until two seconds ago, she’d believed was her father. The paper held tightly in her hands suggested otherwise.
“You’re lying.”
“No.” His unwavering stare became void of emotion. “I’m not. The proof is right there in your hands.” He motioned to theprinted test results. “The percentage of DNA you and I share is?—”
“Zero,” Evie whispered, shocked to her very core. “How is this…if this is true…if you really aren’t my biological father, then…w-who is?”
“A man named Denny Prescott. He and your mother were high school sweethearts. They dated through most of college, too. Until I came into the picture.”