Page 82 of The Charade

"You're Miriam's actual daughters?" He looked up. And this time, he seemed to study the twins’ faces more carefully. As if he was trying to see some sort of resemblance between the girls and their mother. He gave his head a slight shake and then asked, "And did you say you were Mack's age?"

"We didn't say," Elyse answered. "But yes, I guess from what Carter tells us, we're a couple of months younger than your son."

Mr. Aarden just stared at the twins, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Then under his breath, I thought I heard him say, "I was told she'd had a miscarriage."

And with those words, something was triggered in my brain.

Something that I hadn't thought of since hearing my dad's conversation in his office a few weeks ago.

My dad had accused a woman for lying about a miscarriage. He told her that he'd done the math, which led him to the conclusion that she'd lied to him about losing her pregnancy. One of the last things I'd heard him ask the person on the other end of the line was ‘if the girls knew.’

And from the past few minutes I could only assume that he'd been asking Miriam Cohen if her twin daughters—her beautiful twin daughters, Ava and Elyse—had known that he was their father.

Even though I hadn't heard her answer on the other end of the line, didn't know if she'd even given him an answer,Iknew the answer to his question.

The answer was no.

Her daughters had not known who their father was.

Until today.

33

Ava

After explaining to Elyse,Carter, and me about how he'd heard my mom was pregnant but had thought she'd had a miscarriage because that was what she'd told everyone, Dr. Aarden left the room, saying he needed to make a few phone calls.

"Who do you think he's calling?" Elyse asked Carter when Dr. Aarden disappeared into what looked like an office just down the hall from the great room we'd been sitting in for the past ten minutes.

"You want my honest guess?" Carter asked, a wary look in his blue eyes.

"Yes," I said, though from his foreboding expression I wasn't sure that I really did want to know. I had a sinking feeling it was the exact answer we'd been hoping to disprove by coming here.

Carter sighed. "I would bet that he’s calling my dad right now."

"I-is your dad back to a place where he has service?" I asked. Carter had told me before that his dad had planned to fly back home in time for Cambrielle's party but wouldn't be in contact with anyone until then.

"He doesn't have his cell phone turned on—just has it with him in case of an emergency. But Dawn has the number for the house that he's staying at, so I'm guessing that if Dr. Aarden can't get ahold of my dad on his cell, he'll call Dawn for the info."

"So do you think he's our dad then?" Elyse asked, a look of hope in her golden-brown eyes.

She had never minded the idea of Carter's dad being our father in the first place, so none of this was bad news to her.

It was just really inconvenient for me and Carter and our feelings for each other.

Carter blew out a low breath before saying, "I think there's a strong chance that he is."

We walked out to Carter's truck. On the drive back to the school through the rain-covered streets of Eden Falls, Carter told Elyse and me about the phone conversation he'd overheard his dad having the day after he'd first met Elyse and me. And even though Carter hadn't heard very much, he'd heard enough that I was suddenly more scared than ever that Carter and I were related.

I knew I should be happy for Elyse and myself.

Happy that after seventeen years of longing and searching, we’d finally found our dad. And it wasn't just any random guy but Mr. Hastings. A guy who—even though I'd only been around him briefly—I knew was a really great man. The kind of dad most girls would dream of having. He was successful, he took amazing care of his family, and he had a great relationship with each of his children, as far as I could tell.

We'd basically hit the jackpot where biological fathers were concerned. And not just that, we'd have Cambrielle and Nash who already felt like family to me as our brother and sister.

It was the kind of situation that I'd dreamed of having my whole life. The picture-perfect family. The amazing house. The answers I'd been searching for.

I should be ecstatic at the chance of being Joel Hastings’s daughter—an heir of the seventh richest man in the United States.

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