Page 32 of The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past #4)

TWENTY-FIVE

Gabe rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

His head was pounding and he could use a stiff drink to calm his nerves, but it was past midnight and he’d be better off going to bed, if he could manage to relax enough to fall asleep.

Quinn had finally dozed off, but her eyelids fluttered as if she were having a bad dream and she was whimpering in her sleep.

Gabe could make out the tear tracks on her cheeks in the silvery moonlight.

Her belly shivered like shifting sands, the baby now wide awake when its mother needed rest.

The news about Quinn’s twin couldn’t have come at a worse time, and Gabe felt a renewed burst of anger toward Sylvia.

Would this never end? The woman had misled Quinn time and again, and still there were more secrets and lies.

Gabe fervently wished Sylvia had never found Quinn.

Quinn would have always wondered about her birth parents, as many adopted children did, but she wouldn’t have had to deal with all the heartache and disillusionment meeting Sylvia had brought into her life.

Quinn refused to condemn Sylvia without first confronting her, but Gabe’s mind was made up.

Sylvia was poison, and he would do anything to keep Quinn from meeting with her.

Of course, Quinn had a right to know the truth, but her blood pressure had been dangerously elevated when he’d fetched her from Rhys’s office, and she’d been pale and shaky.

Gabe had asked Brenda McGann to collect Emma from school and take her out for pizza to give him time to calm Quinn down and talk the situation through.

He’d meant to argue his case against Sylvia, but Quinn had been so distressed that he’d simply held her and let her cry until she’d eventually exhausted herself enough to allow him to make her some chamomile tea and draw her a warm bath.

The bath had helped somewhat, but as soon as Quinn had toweled herself dry and climbed into bed, the tears had begun anew.

The revelation that Sylvia had repeatedly lied to her and that she had a twin sister out there was simply too much for Quinn to absorb, and she’d returned to the same questions again and again, unable to make sense of the situation.

The conversation would resume as soon as Quinn opened her eyes in the morning, and Gabe needed to figure out a plan for Quinn to get her answers but suffer no ill effects.

Easier said than done. Gabe almost wished he could confront Sylvia himself, but it wasn’t his place, nor would he have enough self-control not to wring the woman’s neck.

Perhaps he could ask Logan to mediate. Logan’s presence might keep the conversation between Sylvia and Quinn from escalating into nuclear warfare, but it didn’t seem fair to bring him into it.

Sylvia was Logan’s mother, and he didn’t need to be confronted with these terrible secrets from her past.

Gabe sighed and went to check on Emma, who was sleeping fitfully, Mr. Rabbit clutched in her hand.

She always sensed when something was wrong, and began to fret, terrified that the new development would somehow destroy her happy home.

Poor child. She’d been through so much already.

She didn’t need this additional stress when she was about to start at a new school and share her parents with a new sibling.

That was enough for any small child to deal with.

Gabe tucked the duvet tighter around Emma’s shoulders and left the room on silent feet.

She was a light sleeper and, once woken, would take hours to go back to sleep.

Gabe got into bed, folded his hands behind his head, and stared up at the murky white ceiling.

Preventing Quinn from confronting Sylvia would take an act of God.

He couldn’t keep that conversation from taking place, but perhaps he could offer Quinn a distraction before the epic confrontation.

He’d fetch the sword back from the institute in the morning and let Quinn have a go. The distraction would help—he hoped.