Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
“That . . .” Caroline started breathing faster. “That was the second condition. That she not search for her biological family. That the birth parents retain complete anonymity. What did you do?” She charged at Allie.
I stepped in, catching Caroline’s shoulders and dipping my head to look her in the eye. “None of this was Allie’s fault. Juniper sought her out. Juniper took the DNA test. You want to be mad at anyone, then bring it to me or Gavin, but Allie’s been on your side since day one. Remember what I told you at the lake? Truth is different depending on who’s telling it. Give her a chance and see it from her side, because she’s done nothing but look at it from yours.”
Caroline sagged.
“Letting her perform in the Classic for you is on me,” Allie clarified. “I know you wanted a closed adoption, and this is probably your worst nightmare. And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. You’d always hated our family, and we thought you’d ban us from seeing her. We were always going to tell you. We just hoped you’d like me first, that you’d see that we weren’t a threat so we could stay in Juniper’s life. It got so out of control, and I’m truly sorry.”
“I never wanted a closed adoption,” Caroline corrected her, and the music stopped. “It was always a comfort to me knowing that she could legally seek out her records at eighteen, and I would have been happy with an open one in the first place, but I signed—”
“Lina’s dead,” Allie interrupted, “and Everett’s listed as Juniper’s legal father. You’re safe. No one is going to hold you to whatever you signed before the adoption. No one is going to fight you for custody, or visitation, or do anything that risks your family. And none of us care if she dances. We just want to see her happy.”
“Legal father?” Caroline’s jaw slackened and fear flooded her eyes. “Not her biological father?”
“We don’t know who that is,” Allie admitted.
“Oh my God.” Caroline retreated, shaking her head. “If her biological father was never informed of her birth, of the adoption, he can contest it. And if he knows she exists, that I haven’t abided by the promises Sean and I made . . . we’re not safe. He could walk through the doors of the county courthouse and petition to take her from the only home she’s ever known. What have you done?” She leveled a murderous look on each of us.
The three of us fell into a stunned silence, and I tried to swim through the heaviness of my own ignorance. None of us had thought that part through.
“Caroline, I’m so very sorry,” Allie whispered. “Lina told Everett it was a one-night stand, so the chances of him knowing are incredibly small.”
“But not nothing,” Caroline countered. “Otherwise, why would they have demanded we agree to those terms?”
“They had to have been to protect Lina,” Allie said. “No one is looking for Juniper. We’d know, because we’ve been looking for him.”
Another song started, and I immediately recognized it. “Juniper’s onstage.”
Caroline glared us all into the ground as the first tear slipped down her cheek. “If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive you. Not any of you.” She swatted at her cheek, then walked into the auditorium.
The three of us followed silently, then lined up against the back wall next to Caroline, who stood with her arms wrapped around her waist, her program clenched in her hand.
“We fucked up,” Allie whispered to me as Juniper danced.
“On every level possible.” I watched my niece with a sad smile, realizing what this performance had potentially cost her—cost all of us. But damn, did she look happy up there. Happy and graceful and utterly charming.
Caroline watched in awe, and Allie’s head bobbed with the rhythm, her face strained with worry like she was the one up there. She flashed a smile when Juniper nailed a move, then smiled wider in encouragement when she didn’t.
“You can definitely tell she’s a Rousseau,” Gavin whispered from Allie’s other side.
“Yeah, she is,” I whispered in reply.
“She’s a Rousseau.” Allie’s face fell, and her focus shifted to the audience. Her gaze jumped from person to person with a speed that bordered on panic by the time the music ended.
“What’s wrong?” I asked Allie as we all clapped for Juniper.
“Professional ballet is a very small world,” she whispered. “And there are at least twenty scouts in the audience. Boston.” Her eyes shifted right, then left. “Houston. Atlanta. San Francisco.” Color drained from her face.
“She’s beautiful,” Caroline said with a watery smile, alternating between clapping and batting at tears. “So very lovely. And good.” She looked around me to Allie. “She’s good, isn’t she? Or am I just her mom? Am I biased?”