Page 95 of Stolen Voices

“What happened next?”

“CPS put Mom in a mental hospital because they were worried she might attempt to hurt herself or me. She would never.” She shakes her head, trembling in my arms from the pain her memories bring. “Mom was just so sad. She had to watch my father—the man she loved more than life itself—die in her arms. They were so in love and happy. We all were. Then, in the blink of an eye, it was all gone. My mom had nothing.”

“She had you. She should have been strong enough for you,” I mumble, angry with her mother for giving up.

I have you now.

Callie rolls over to face me and cups my cheek. “Please don’t be mad at her. My mom, she’s broken, Eli. It’s not anyone’s fault, and it’s not hers. I don’t blame her for any of this. I could never be angry at her for loving my dad the way she did. She loved him with her whole heart. She still does. When he died, it was like he took half her soul with him. It was awful to witness but also so beautiful. To love someone so completely… Promise me you won’t hold this against her. Please?”

My throat swells with emotion as Callie’s nearly black eyes beg me to understand. I think of my mom and dad, and how much they love each other. Would my mom be able to survive something like hers did? The honest answer is I don’t know. No one does unless they experience it for themselves.

“I swear I won’t.” I seal my promise with a kiss to her wrist.

“Thank you.” She runs her thumb over my scruffy cheek.

“Is there more?” I offer Callie an out, but she presses forward.

“So much.”

“What happened after CPS? Did you go into foster care?”

“I wish.” Something tells me it’s worse than that as she hiccups from tears I can’t see in the dark. “I was placed with my only living relative. My half-sister.”

I recall our conversation over roast beef sandwiches, where she said she didn’t have any siblings. Callie keeps talking before I can question her about the lie.

“I’m sorry I lied. But my sister is not my family. Family doesn’t hurt you or threaten you. My sister, she’s … evil.”

My stomach bottoms out at the description, and the faint ringing of bells goes off in the back of my head. “Who’s your sister, Callie?”

“Silla.”

What in the actual fuck?

Silla Treymonde, her manager, is Callie’s sister. The despicable woman who thrives on Botox and treats the sweet, talented, gorgeous woman in my arms like shit is her sister.

It’s impossible to compare the two in my mind. “How?”

Callie shrugs again, probably wondering the same thing.How are they related?

“Wait.” I can’t take not being able to see her beautiful face. I need to see every emotion play out in her big brown eyes as she reveals more about herself, her life… Everything. I want to know it all. Reaching over, I flick on the bedside lamp and quickly return to my side to face Callie.

Her cheeks glisten with tears tracks in the soft glow of the light. I swipe them away, wishing it was that easy to swipe away her heartache. “Much better.”

Her pink lips twitch, too sad to fully smile. Unable to stop myself, I swipe my thumb across her bottom lip. It’s so soft and plump, perfect for kissing.

Instead, I press my lips to her forehead. “You don’t have to tell me anything else if you don’t want to.”

She shakes her head, undeterred by my offer. “No, I’m ready to tell you. I’ve been keeping all of this a secret for so long, Eli. I’m tired, and I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“Then don’t. I’m right here.” I clasp our hands together and send her the strength she needs to tell me everything.

“My dad is Andrew Cartwright.” Callie pauses, arching her brow at me. The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it. “He was an agent, like you.”

Holy shit. The name clicks. Andrew Cartwright was a very well-known agent in the music industry.

“You know who he was, don’t you?”

I nod, dumbfounded at this new piece of information. Details about Andrew Cartwright’s career surface. He was a legend. People still talk about him, and his uncanny ability to find hidden gems and turn them into superstars. His death was a tragedy and was in the papers for weeks. The police found only one working security camera, but the footage was too grainy to identify the assailant and he was never caught.