Page 229 of Shifting Hearts 1
“You okay?” he asked.
“Am I okay?” She gave a sharp laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “You want to tell me that my roommate, my best friend, is actually my birth mother?”
Dom shifted uneasily in his chair. “Not really, but yeah.”
“Not really? I don’t understand.” Her voice cracked on the last word.
“Your mother was powerful,” Dom began gently.
“Uncle Dom, I know that.”
He exhaled. “It’s not the body we buried. That was another version of her.”
Em’s hands curled into fists. “And Siskia and Hunter?”
Something tugged hard at my chest. “Those were the names she gave you.”
Her eyes flashed. “You changed it? Why? If you’d kept them, I would have known.”
Irene’s voice cut through the silence, quiet but steady. “What do you mean?”
The fire in the library crackled low, shadows stretching along the rows of bookshelves.
“She spoke about her family. How they didn’t exist anymore. I thought she meant they had died. That’s why she ran when she discovered I was a Chase.”
“What?” we all asked at once.
“It was Morgan,” Em said, her eyes dropping to the floor. “He came to visit and tipped her off that I was a Chase, lied about the surname I gave her.”
I straightened. “You lied about who you are?”
Her head snapped up, eyes burning. “Please, don’t start. You never cared.”
“Emily, I do care. I just…”
“What? You just what?”
“It’s not easy.” My chest tightened, my heart racing. “Fuck. Shit.”
“Jace, calm down.” Annie was beside me in an instant, her hand brushing my arm. But her touch didn’t steady me. Everything Gabby had said, everything we had buried, clawed its way back to the surface. I should never have stopped searching for her.
A knock sounded, heavy against the carved oak doors. They swung open, and Gabby slipped inside first. The air shifted, Morgan’s scent rushed in before Gabby closed the door.
“Why isn’t she coming in?” I demanded.
Gabby’s voice was sharp. “Sit down, Jace. Keep your distance. Listen before you do something stupid. You need all the facts. It’s Morgan, but not the way you want it to be. She goes by Natasha now. She refuses to be called Morgan. And she’s not staying.”
“Gabby—”
“We fucked up,” she snapped. “Big time. She’s not staying.”
“She can’t be alone either,” Em said quietly.
Gabby softened, brushing a hand over Em’s cheek. “She won’t. I promise.”
“Aunt Gabby,” Em whispered.
Gabby’s jaw tightened. “She’s my best friend. Not yours.”
