The Lighter In The Driveway

Chapter 9 – The Lie We Lived

I stumbled backward.

“No,” I breathed. “That’s impossible.”

Roman dropped the photograph onto the mahogany desk. His hands were shaking. “I found it hidden inside the lining of my father’s safe. Behind the steel backing.”

I stared at the woman in the picture. The same green eyes. The same curve of the jaw.

“I look like her,” I whispered, a cold dread pooling in my stomach.

“You are identical to her,” Roman said. He looked at me, a horrible realization dawning in his eyes.

“Megan,” Roman’s voice cracked. “What was your mother’s maiden name?”

“Sullivan,” I said immediately. “Claire Sullivan.”

Roman frantically began digging through the heavy iron lockbox on his desk. He pulled out a stack of ancient birth certificates and marriage licenses.

He slammed one onto the desk.

Clara DeLuca. His mother.

“She died when I was four,” Roman said, staring at the paper. “A car accident. My father told me she burned in the wreck. There was a closed casket.”

He looked up at me.

“Megan. My mother’s maiden name was Clara Sullivan.”

The air left my lungs.

“My mother is alive,” I stammered. “She lives in Milwaukee. I pay her property taxes. I visit her on Christmas!”

“Your father,” Roman said, piecing it together aloud, his voice gaining speed. “Patrick Cole. He didn’t just protect my father’s business. He protected my mother.”

“From what?!” I cried.

“From my father,” Roman said, the horror absolute in his eyes.

Suddenly, a voice spoke from the doorway.

“Not from his father.”

We both snapped our heads up.

Elias was standing in the doorway. He looked exhausted. He looked like a man who had carried a secret for thirty years and could finally set it down.

“Elias?” Roman demanded. “What is this?”

Elias walked into the room and closed the door behind him.

“Clara didn’t run away from your father, Roman,” Elias said softly. “She ran away from the Morettis.”

He looked at me. “She was pregnant with you, Megan.”

I gripped the edge of the desk to stop from falling.

“Roman’s father staged the accident,” Elias explained, tears welling in his eyes. “The Morettis had sworn to wipe out the entire DeLuca bloodline. Your father knew he couldn’t protect her forever. So he asked his best friend—Patrick Cole—to take her away. To give her a new name. A new life.”

Elias looked at Roman. “You are siblings.”

TITLE: The Blood We Share

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