Page 48 of Protected by the Sinner (The Sinner’s Touch #2)
It wasn’t hard to get Elodie’s number, but it was definitely strange when we spoke for the first time.
She didn’t ask why I was calling or how I’d gotten her number. She just said she’d be returning to the U.S. soon.
Without a doubt, it was the craziest conversation I’ve ever had.
At the same time that I had a hundred questions, she gave me no opening—maybe that alone is enough proof we’re related.
In the end, she said outright that she’d only talk to me if I agreed to meet her for lunch.
We never touched on the most important topic: the possibility that we’re siblings, or how she even found me.
Lilly told me not to be so suspicious and to go see her with an open mind—two things that don’t exist in my world. Still, I couldn’t resist the urge to go.
Now, on the plane to New Orleans, I think about what she said about Amber.
Lilly preparing me for the possibility of a third relative made it easier to process—considering how badly I handle surprises.
Of course, long before I called Elodie, I did a deep dive into both of them. There’s nothing Ethan and I can’t uncover if you give us forty-eight hours.
The problem with my own past is that I never had the slightest clue who I was or where I came from. Whoever left me behind only tucked a note with my name inside the basket at the orphanage door.
And now, following the lead of Elodie and Amber, I have a name for the woman who gave birth to me: Estrella De León.
Contrary to what the social worker thought, if I’m really this woman’s son, then my roots aren’t Middle Eastern—they’re Spanish.
I close my eyes for a second and think about everything I went through.
Before I found my final, permanent parents, I went through hell—adopted and returned, shuffled from home to home—until I landed in the one that changed me forever [14] .
But from what I’ve found out about the lives of those two, growing up with both a mother and a father wasn’t much better than what I had.
I try to piece together the information I read about the cult.
I’ve had my fair share of lunatics in my life—but never in such an organized fashion.
Religious extremists, fanatics—that’s uncharted territory for me. There’s not much information available about the group they were part of—Children of the Six Enlightened.
Even though it goes against my nature, I shove all those questions to the back of my mind and focus on something that’s bothering me even more right now.
Beau Carmouche-LeBlanc.
A quick search didn’t turn up much about him, though I won’t stop there. I’ve already sent Blood to dig into his life. Not being able to find anything about someone in today’s world—where everything leaves a trace—is never a good sign.
Elodie told me Amber loves him and is pregnant with his child. If they really are my family, I need to make sure he treats her right.
I’ve barely stepped into the hospital before I run into at least ten bodyguards. From what little I’ve uncovered about LeBlanc, there’s no doubt they’re here for Amber’s protection, which instantly makes me respect him.
Men with enemies like ours have to protect their families.
One of them, bald and just as tall as I am, steps forward. He reminds me a bit of Blood—same empty stare. “You can’t go in.”
“Who’s gonna stop me?”
“Roman, Elodie’s expecting you,” I hear a voice behind him say.
The man’s accent is different, and even though I haven’t seen him yet, I know it’s LeBlanc.
The shaved head hesitates but eventually steps aside. When he moves, I come face-to-face with the man who, apparently, is my future brother-in-law.
We’re about the same height and build, and he looks just as likely to smile as I do.
“Amos Cooper,” I say, more to cut the bullshit than out of any desire to introduce myself.
“I know who you are. My sister-in-law thinks you’re siblings. And while I can admit you look alike, that’s not enough in my world.”
“Not in mine either, which is why I brought three DNA test kits. If we send them out today, I can have the results back by morning.”
He nods, though he still doesn’t seem too eager to let me in.
“I’m here to see them,” I say, spelling out the obvious, but he still doesn’t move.
Jesus, this day just keeps getting better.
“Beau, knock it off. I told you not to stop him from coming in. Amber’s been dying to see him.”
That finally does the trick. He steps aside, but neither of us takes our eyes off the other.
And then, just like that, I’m face-to-face with the woman I’ve only ever seen in a photo.
In person, the resemblance is even more striking, and a strong wave of emotion rushes through me.
With no clue how to handle it, I blurt out the dumbest thing possible: “I brought kits so we can confirm the DNA.”
She starts crying and runs into my arms. “Screw science. You’re my reflection!”
There’s no point in denying it, so for once, I push logic aside and let myself be held by the woman who might just be the first real link to my past.
“Come with me,” she says after a while. “Amber’s dying to meet you.”
She leads me to the first door on the right, and when she opens it, a calmer version of the woman holding my hand watches us from the hospital bed.
I remember what Elodie told me: that Amber had been hit by a car, lost her memory, then got it back. She’s pregnant and had a rough night.
And then something strange happens.
Even though it makes no sense—because they might not be anything to me—years spent with Lillyana have taught me better. With one arm around Elodie, I walk to the bed and, without saying a word, pull Amber into my chest too.
You could almost hear the rhythm of our three hearts, and feelings I don’t know how to name rise up inside me.
Elodie’s right. Screw science.
They’re mine too.