Chapter 26

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CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Hannah hadn't realised until that day, how much she had come to enjoy the occasional interactions she had with Rayne. He was so different from the world she had built up for the past seven-ish years that it was like a breath of fresh air amongst a polluted cityscape.

After he'd ensured his sisters were fed and doing their homework, he'd grabbed hold of his laptop and settled it down on the small dining area, taking a seat beside her.

"What now?"

She laughed, unaware of the way something inside him twisted when he heard the sound. "I have no bloody idea," she mumbled, looking around the small kitchen. Her smile widened as she took in the children's drawings adorning the fridge, held up by tacky magnets alongside a few photographs. Although his house was small and everything was rather faded, there was no doubt that it was full of love.

"Now, we find your dad. What do you know about him?"

Hannah shrugged, the easy smile slipping off her face as she remembered the story her aunt and uncle had told. There was a part of her that almost wished Chris had been some deadbeat loser, a one-night stand or something like that. At least it wouldn't have hurt so much. Knowing that he had the ability to love Jasmine with all his heart but not enough to raise a child was more damaging.

"His name is Chris. Chris Davis. That's all I know."

Rayne's eyebrows rose, spinning around in the breakfast bar stool until he looked her straight in the eye. "That's so... white," he finally commented, his voice breaking through the cluster of thoughts running wild in Hannah's mind.

She snorted in reply, lips tugging up reluctantly. "You're white," she reminded him, with a roll of her eyes. Her copper gaze locked onto his, taking in the multitude of shades of peppermint and jade, swirling around.

Rayne nodded, more to himself than her. It seemed that every second he spent with Hannah Adem, he knew her less and less. He didn't know why exactly he was so fascinated with her, so eager to unwrap all the mysteries surrounding her. Or perhaps he did know, how could he not when his stomach twisted into a ball of nerves every time she smiled at him. But he didn't want to admit it, still trying to convince himself that she was just a random girl.

But she wasn't, that was the bloody problem. She was the most beautiful, most rich, most popular, most open-minded girl he'd ever had the opportunity to come across.

She also was the most complicated. How one person could be so honest and so secretive at the exact same time was beyond him but somehow, just somehow, Hannah managed to be the two. She looked at him like she was looking at someone she considered an equal but then a film seemed to go over her expression, as though she remembered who she was, who he was. Just some quiet scholarship kid in her English class.

He shook his thoughts off, pushing away the negativity and focused on the task at hand. Hannah had enlisted his help to track her unknown father down – surely if she trusted him with a secret that large he wasn't just a nobody to her. Right?

"I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting it at all. You don't look half white."

Hannah giggled, tugging at her school tie until the navy wrapped around her fingers. "What do white people look like?"

Rayne's lips were pursed, trying not to laugh at the stupidity of their conversation. "I dunno, I guess white people look... white."

They burst into peals of laughter at his words, both slightly surprised at how easy their conversation flowed even when talking about such a serious topic as race and identity.

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