Page 96 of Fourteen of a Kind

“Excuse me? You’re a kid,” Simon said. “I don’t know what you’re after, but I suggest you get off our property.”

“We share the same father—Henry Kind.”

“Why not.” Sam threw his hands up.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Sebastian ran his hand down his face.

“How the fuck old are you?” Simon asked.

“Nineteen. My mother is—was Darlene Quinton.”

“Quinton. How do I know that name?” Stefan said.

“She used to work for us,” Sam said.

“Wait a second. Isn’t she one who was just gone one day? Right before Dad retired?”

“Yep. And when we asked Dad about her, he said she quit and moved to San Diego without notice,” Sam said.

“Now, we know why,” Shaun said.

I stood up, walked over to Grady, and stared at him closely.

“Yep. He’s a Kind,” I said.

“I’m sorry if you guys think I’m lying,” he said. “I’m not.”

“Other than our little genius and Kind detector, what makes you think we share the same father?” Simon asked.

“My mother talked about him a lot throughout the years. She would notice an expression on my face or how I said something and tell me that I looked and sounded just like my father, Henry.”

“You do realize that’s a bad thing, right?” Simon ran his hand down his face as he sat back down in his chair.

“And you decided to seek us out the second you turned nineteen?” Stefan asked.

“Wait a second. Nora is eighteen,” Sam said.

“Who’s Nora?” Grady asked.

“Our sister,” Simon spoke with irritation. “I’ll ask you one last time, kid. Why are you here?” Simon asked.

“My mother told me that my father had other children and that she left him because of it. But she lied. When I was cleaning out her things?—”

“Did she pass away?” Stefan asked.

“Yes. Three months ago. She went in for a routine surgical procedure and ended up developing a blood clot. It broke off and traveled to her lungs. The doctors did everything they could, but it wasn’t enough.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said to him.

“Thanks. As I was saying. I was cleaning out her things when I found a small box in her closet. Inside the box were pictures of her and my father. I never knew what he looked like because she told me she burned all his photos. With the pictures was a letter from our father to my mother. He told her to take the one million dollars he transferred to her account from his company funds and use it to take care of and raise me. He told her to move back home to San Diego and never contact him again. He said his family could never find out. He also forced her to sign a non-disclosure agreement, which his lawyer drew up.”

“Do you have a copy of this non-disclosure agreement?” Shaun asked.

“I do. Back in my hotel room, along with the photos and the letter. And you are?”

“Your other brother, Shaun Kind.”

“My mother didn’t mention your name.”

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