Page 118 of Our Broken Pieces
“Why?” My voice trembles with anger. “Why are you doing this? You’re my mother, for Christ’s sake.”
Her expression hardens. “I’m not your mother, Genevieve.”
“Damn right you’re not,” I spit. “A real mother wouldn’t do this to her own child.”
She leans in, her eyes boring into mine, a mocking smirk on her face. “I knew your parents. But they’re dead. Have been for three years. I’m not your mother, and I never was.”
The words hit me like a violent wave, my world crumbling in an instant. My parents—gone, all this time. No one told me. I’d never know them. They’d never know me. I feel the air leave the room, my mind reeling from the truth.
“Who are you?” My voice is barely a whisper.
“You can call me Grace.”
I struggle to make sense of it. “How did you know them? Why did you come for me?”
Her smirk widens, amused by my confusion. “You ask too many questions. Your only job right now is to sit here, be quiet, and wait for morning. Then we’ll see how much your fiancé is willing to pay for you.”
Chapter Eighty-Four
Marcus
I’m woken by fur and a cold, wet nose pressing against my face. Slowly coming out of my sleepy haze, I realize I’d passed out on the couch with Ethel sprawled across my chest. She’s head-butting me persistently, her subtle way of demanding food.
“If you want breakfast, you need to get off me,” I grumble.
With a dramatic leap, she catapults off my chest and trots toward the kitchen. I roll to my side and grab my phone, noticing Gigi never responded to my text last night. That’s unusual. Normally, one text from me means twelve from her. I hit the call button, but it rings without an answer. My chest tightens a bit.
It’s just after eight, so Melonie is probably up with Millie by now. I dial her number.
“Hey, Marcus,” she greets, and I hear a tiny squeal in the background.
“Morning, Melonie. Sounds like Millie’s already up.”
“I just gave her some blueberries. Are you all set for today? Linc’s in the shower.”
“I guess so. Just wanted to check what time you’re meeting G at the hotel.”
“Audrey and I should be there around nine-thirty or ten. Why?”
“Gigi didn’t answer my texts last night. And when I called her just now, no answer, either.”
“That’s odd. Want us to check on her?”
“Could you? I’d go myself, but if it turns out to be nothing and she sees me, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Melonie laughs. “Yeah, don’t want you in the doghouse on your wedding day. I’ll call Audrey, and we’ll head over soon.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’ll call you back soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
We hang up, and I fill Ethel’s dish before starting the coffee maker. I pour myself a cup and head to my room to get ready. As the shower water runs over me, I try to push away the unease gnawing at me, but no matter how hot the water is, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. I shut off the water, wrapping a towel around me when my phone rings.
“Hey, Audrey.”
“Marcus, what room is Gigi in?”
