One Heart

4. Meet the family

Sorah blinked away the fog of sleep. Her mind made its way out of its haze as she enjoyed the comfort of the bed and the pillow beneath her. As she felt the rise and fall of the chest below her, her eyes snapped to attention. She looked up, her eyes connecting with Kensie's; eyes that peered down at her with such softness, free of the cocky arrogance displayed the night before. Sorah flushed red, realising she must have migrated toward Kensie in the night.

She didn't want to move. Her world had been turned upside down and the one person she called family had been taken. She was eager to take advantage of any comfort she could find, considering it didn't often come easily for her. Still, she couldn't assume her invasion of Kensie's personal space was wanted. "I'm so sorry," she said, pulling away.

"Don't be," Kensie said, slipping out from under the covers to stand. "It's still early. Are you sure you don't need more sleep?"

"Uh-huh," Sorah mumbled. "I'm exhausted but I don't think I can get back to sleep."

"In that case, shower, or breakfast?" Kensie asked, taking the opportunity to stretch her muscles. Her fitted, white T-shirt rode up, exposing a ribbon of tan skin above shorts that sat far too low.

"Um..." Sorah forced herself to look away, the sight leaving her speechless. Her eyes snapped straight back up as she noticed the blood on her clothes that must have transferred from Kensie when she'd carried her. "Shower please."

Kensie grinned. "I'll go get you a towel."

As soon as Kensie returned, Sorah wasted no time in taking advantage of the luxurious, and more importantly hot, shower. When she was done, she sat on the bed, her legs crossed as she picked at her fingernails.

Nothing made sense. None of what Alyssa had said was coherent. She was a mad woman, that was the only explanation. A dangerous mad woman, who now had Beth.

It was Sorah's fault. If only she had obeyed Beth's rules and told her where she was going. If she hadn't gone to Alyssa's house in the first place, things would be fine.

Memories that usually haunted Sorah from below the surface, were now at the forefront of her mind. She grieved her mother, and it seemed now Kensie did too. But in her eighteen years Sorah had never heard of Kensie, which meant her and Orla would have had to have known each other before she was born. It was impossible.

When the door clicked open, the humid air carried the scent of sandalwood body wash in from the bathroom. She kept her head down, allowing Kensie a shred of privacy as she walked around the bed on her way to the wardrobe. But she didn't have to wait long, as Kensie emerged dry and clean only moments later.

"Uh..." Sorah's jaw hung loose. She'd seen Kensie the day before in corporate wear and high heeled boots, and although she enjoyed the look, there was just something about the tight jeans and fitted black T-shirt she enjoyed. She couldn't help but admire the way the casual outfit hugged Kensie's frame.

Kensie lifted a brow, her lips quirking into a soft smirk. "Come on, let's go downstairs. My family are keen to meet you."

*** 

The Ducall home was huge. Light flooded in from the many windows and throughout the open-planned living area. The kitchen was twice the size of her own and joined the living room to where the dining room stretched back toward the front of the house.

A sharp glint of reflected light hit Sorah's eyes from the pool outside as she turned to her left, following the soft sounds of conversation that had now hushed.

There were four people in the room, apart from herself and Kensie. Two sat on the couch furthest from her. The man, so strikingly similar in appearance to Kensie, yet older, sat quietly. By his side and with her hand entangled in his, was a woman of around the same age.