Three feet away from them, Boston tore the note from Olivia's hand.
But he didn't pay attention to the way she broke her words off, and he totally ignored how she studied him with a scrutinizing squint of the eyes. The dizzy spell that almost dropped him to his knees made his vision blur. He blinked repeatedly until he could focus on the words again. But no matter how many times he examined them, they continued to read the same.
Dear Mr. Montgomery Kincaid,
My name is Cassidy Trenton. I am nine years and ten months old. I am looking for my dad. My mom is Ellie Trenton. She will not tell me his name, but she met him in college. She said he was the son of an astronaut and named after a state capital. I read about you in the magazine. You married the famous model Shannon March. They said you went to the same college my mom went to. They said your dad was a real-life astronaut. You are named after the capital of Alabama. Are you my dad? Please come meet me.
Frozen with horror, Boston could only gape. The blood congealed in his veins.
Yes, he'd done it now. He'd thought Ellie's name, and look what atrocity had emerged.
Dear God. She'd even dubbed the baby Cassie--the very name he'd chosen.
His stomach churned.
This was wrong. All wrong. It wasn't possible. That baby was dead.
He clearly remembered Ellie saying, "There is no baby. The baby's gone." She'd been pale and crying; he'd had no reason to think she was lying. "So just leave me alone, Boston. I never want to see you again. I want to move on and forget."
"Umm...guys?" came Olivia's voice from beside him. A moment later, Monty tore the letter from his grasp.
Boston lifted his face.
His brother's jaw sagged. "Holy Shit, Boston," he said, glancing down at the child's scrawl. "This letter was meant for you."
Boston shook his head briefly to deny it. "No," he rasped. "It can't be. Ellie...she told me she had a miscarriage."