Cousins Esther and Tempest have been separated by cities, countries, and continents all their lives; but now, when both girls need each other the most, they are separated by lightyears.
Tempest is stuck on a vessel to Janus, forced into keeping the...
"I always wanted a large family. For a long while I was content just raising Daniel and Isla with Bea, but now that I know what life is like with Esther, I can't imagine how I ever went on without two children of my own. She may not be blood, but she is my daughter. I don't care what any DNA test says."
-Eleanor Crowley
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ESTHER
Of all the questions running through my head right now, the biggest one is simply, "Why?"
Why did my family lie to me all these years? Why didn't Isla want to raise me? Why did Kayleigh hack into the Hicksmon official files to share that? Why am I spending my second to last night with Milo crying in my living room, surrounded by concerned family who are treating me like I'm made of porcelain?
I wish I had the breath to ask all of those questions, but my tears suffocate me and all I can get out is just the one word: "Why?"
"Milo, would you give us some privacy?" Mom—Eleanor—asks.
"No, I want him to stay," I insist. He's the only person in this room who hasn't lied to be. One of two people in my life who hasn't betrayed me, Tempest being the other. I wish she were here. She would have the wittiest comebacks to dish out. She might be the only person who could somehow make me smile right now.
"Milo, please," Daniel adds.
I don't look up, but I can only assume Daniel has shot him one of his looks, because Milo rubs my back and then stands beside me. "Call me later, Es," he mumbles to me.
I still don't look up. I'm too angry to give them all the attention they're looking for from me right now. This whole situation seems hypocritical: My boyfriend is being asked to leave so that my entire family can gang up on me to explain their lies? Some family.
Literally, everyone who I consider family except for Tempest, Ava, and Ian are here. I cross my arms and allow my peripheral vision to scan the room. Eleanor is next to me, Joe—my step-dad—sits in his wheelchair beside her, Isla stands beside him, then Daniel, Beatrice, Todd, Celia, Julian, and Declan, who is the only one who hangs his head. I hear all the younger kids running around upstairs, their feet stampeding above us. Only Henry—who used to be just my thirteen-year-old sort of cousin, but is now my thirteen-year-old uncle—and Xenia, Celia and Julian's daughter, have any idea what's going on. Toben and his friends are clueless.
"So...," I start. "Say whatever you need to say to try to save this."
I'm not quite sure what I mean by save this. Save this situation? Save this family? Whatever I meant to say, Eleanor takes it hard. She sucks in air as if I just punched her in the lungs.
Beatrice is the first to speak. "We all understand how upset you must be. In our lives, we have all experienced anger toward our families for different reasons, but we want to at least explain to you why we kept this from you. You are allowed to be angry with us. We only ask that you try to hear us."
