Page 96 of Surviving Slater

"We're going to meet her," he announced.

"How?" I asked. I had no idea what he had in store.

"She is coming here for a meeting," he revealed before taking a sip of coffee that was so thick it looked like tar.

"A meeting?" I asked. "Does she know who we are?"

"No," he answered. "She is a model and she is coming for an interview for a modeling job."

I didn't know her but the thought of meeting her even under the lie of an interview nearly broke me out in a cold sweat.

"Do you think this is the best way to handle it?" I asked, feeling like we were doing something underhanded.

"This is a delicate matter that needs to be handled face to face," he began to explain, setting his cup of coffee down on the table. "The only way to accomplish that is for it to seem like a potential job."

"Okay." I sighed. "I trust you."

He nodded.

"Thank you for doing this for me."

"After reading the files, I have to admit it's a story I want to see end in a family reunited. If I were in his shoes I would want to know where my sister was." It was so Connor.

"What time will she be here?" I asked, hoping there was time for me to clean up and change.

"In an hour."

"Good. I need a shower."

He showed me to a guest bedroom.

"There's an en suite you can use," he said, showing me the door. "What did you tell Slater?"

"I told him I was going to my mom's for the weekend."

He nodded. "When you're done, I'll be in the study," he said before leaving me alone in the room.

For a moment I lay down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. Taking a deep breath in and out, I tried to calm my nerves.

I was going to meet Slater's sister! The responsibility of the secret that had started off innocently had now taken on a life of its own, growing and becoming bigger than I had ever anticipated.

I felt more human after I had a quick shower and changed into fresh clothes. I towel-dried my hair before I went looking for Connor in his study.

The door was closed so I knocked.

"Come in," he instructed.

I pushed the door open. He was sitting at a big oak desk, going through some papers.

"Have a seat." He indicated the chair across from him.

I sat down.

"Why did you think she was dead?" he asked, leaning back in the leather chair.

"That's what Slater told me." Talking about what he told me didn't feel right but Connor needed to know. "He told me they were both taken into foster care but they were split up."

"Did he say how he found out she had died?" he asked.