Page 46 of Perfect Composition

“Just do it. It can’t be worse than what I already know.”

“Most of what you’ve been told is partially the truth.”

I suck in a deep breath to calm the heat of my first words which is to accuse Carys of being a damn liar. “What evidence do you have to substantiate that?”

Austyn doesn’t speak. She just clutches my hands as I confront the attorney whose job it is to protect her father at all costs.

Carys rests her hands against the stack of files next to her. “I hired my own investigations firm to look into the past—Hudson Investigations. They found everything you just showed me, plus a lot more. What I need to know is how much do you want to know the truth?”

“How can I trust this Hudson Investigations?”

“I’m certain you’ve heard about the case of the Supreme Court justice whose daughter was sentenced to prison for stalking?”

The inside of my mouth gets dry. “That was them?”

She nods. “They’ve also been involved in cases involving relatives of US senators and clients of ours, not including Beckett. They do pro bono work involving missing children and some hostage situations.”

“I can pull up their website if you’d like to contact your investigator to validate their credentials,” David offers.

But it’s not the credentials they’re listing out for me that convinces me. It’s the terrible concern on all of their faces. “Will someone please take Austyn out of the room while I read the files?”

“Mama, what?” Austyn yells.

My head whirls in her direction. “I made most of the decisions about your life based on the information your grandfather placed in front of me. Please, give me this, Austyn.”

Angie stands. “Come on, Austyn. Let’s give your mother a few moments.”

After my daughter has been escorted from the room and I’m left with the Burkes and David, I ask outright, “How much of my life is a lie?”

Carys tells me bluntly, “Your love for your daughter and your degrees are the only things I wouldn’t be suspicious of.”

My insides twist. “Right. Can I have the first file?”

Carys hands it to David, who passes it to me. “This one might be the worst.”

“Why?” I ask as I flip it open.

I should have waited for someone to answer me before I did.

There’s a picture of my mother on one side. And a T-boned car on the other. I suck in an enormous breath. I scan the date on the photo. Then I lift the file closer, certain I’m reading something wrong.

It’s the day before I was born.

“How can this be?” I ask aloud.

Carys sighs. “Your mother didn’t die of an infection, Paige.”

The file clatters to the table. “How did she die?”

“She was hit by a driver who ran a red light.”

As soon as the words leave Carys’s mouth, I’m flipping through the police report to see who drove the car. And I swear I’m having heart palpitations when I see the name Ava Miller.

Because that’s Beckett’s mother.

“Oh, God. He did consider her an aberration.” Tears begin to well in my eyes.

“Who did?”