Page 183 of Kings & Queen

“To the beach?”

At my nod, she’d rushed over, and I fell apart in her arms.

And now I stood in the doorway, face-to-face with the only people in the world who meant anything to me. Sebastian stood with his mouth damn near on the ground, while expressions of shock and delight filled the other men’s faces. Kinsley’s head was bowed, her hands folded in her lap, and her knuckles were white.

I took several deep breaths to calm my nerves. The seconds ticked by, and my stomach churned. A part of me wanted to chicken out and run. Then I reminded myself, how many years had I dreamed about them? How many secret paintings and sketches did I have in my sketchbook, locked in the safe Aleksandr had purchased for me when I told him I needed one?

How many did I have of her right now in my sketchbook? That I’d drawn this past Spring. I had years’ worth of drawings. I even purchased several age-progression software programs so I could continue to draw them as the years passed.

I’d created lives for them, families. Portfolios and portfolios of images, and I’d be damned if the ones I had of her didn’t match her, down to her size. The only thing I couldn’t have foreseen was her being involved with the Kings.

Swallowing my fear, I approached them. With a deep breath and my voice shaking, I asked, “I think I owe you an apology. I was hoping we could talk…alone.”

Her head snapped up, grayish-blue eyes widened with surprise. Her gaze shifted between me and Marcel. Her uncertainty mirrored mine, but she stood and stumbled a little before Ivan steadied her.

“I’d like that,” she said, her voice velvety soft.

Silence rang through the room as I walked over to the large folding window wall and pushed it open enough so we could climb out onto the deck. I knew the perfect place we could go without prying eyes.

I ignored the stares from the men and saw my parents greeting Sophia and Christopher, who seemed thrilled to have them show up. Kinsley followed me. Sophia and my mom immediately began talking, and from the pointed looks they gave us, they were curious about seeing me leading Kinsley in the opposite direction.

We walked quietly for half a mile, where the private beach veered off into an alcove. It was as if the entire past eleven years’ worth of emotions came tumbling out of me. I fell onto the sand and broke.

She sank down beside me and then lifted her voice and began singing “Amazing Grace.”

It was still as sweet as I remembered, more mature and filled with an emotional undertone that she and I alone understood. Goose bumps broke out across my arms as I listened to her. I closed my eyes as every emotional moment of those two years we spent together poured over me, filling in the holes of my very existence.

All the empty places, the dark places, the hurting places, filled with a cleansing water, warm and pure. She was here. I could see her, touch her, hear her. My sister, a part of me. She finished the song and then stuck out her hand, which was still so tiny.

“All those years ago, I tried to tell you my name, although I knew you knew it. So let me try again. Hi, my name is Kinsley.” Her voice shook.

“Isabella Caruso,” I whispered, and looked around.

I grabbed her in a hug, and we cried in each other’s arms for several long minutes. When we finally calmed down, we just stared at each other.

“This is insanity. I never in a million years thought I would ever see you again. What are the chances? I mean, of all the billions of people on the planet, you’re here, you’re really here, and I can talk to you, and no one will beat me.” She started speaking a mile a minute. “Now, I’ve been told you don’t like to talk. I promise Ilove to talk. I can talk and talk and talk. You don’t have to say anything at all. But I need you to know something.”

She and I both tensed up.

“I didn’t tell Marcel about any of you. It wasn’t my place, not my story to tell.”

Relief washed over me, and I sobbed once more while she hugged me.

“I get the feeling I did the right thing, thank god. Just so you know, I made up an entire story, said it was me and, well, X. I had to. Dr. Marcel is a very persistent man. He’s tenacious, but very good. You know? Well, sure you do, you’ve known him forever.”

I took a deep breath. Boy, she was not lying. She could talk.

“Slow down,” I breathed.

“Oh, sorry. I’m overwhelming, aren’t I? Pasha used to tell me that all the time. Like,allthe time. Alek says my mouth gets me into trouble. He’s not wrong. I think I’m trying to make—”

I reached out and put my hand over her mouth. Her face fell, and I laughed. After several long minutes, I asked, “Who’s Pasha?”

“My dance partner.”

She held her breath. She was struggling, wanting to say more. I smiled. Somehow, she was exactly as I imagined she would be.

“So, you still dance?” I asked.