He started toward me, his long-legged pace eating up the short distance.
“Don’t,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t come near me, Luc.”
He halted, his amethyst eyes wide and endless. “What did she tell you?”
“Oh, let’s see. She explained that she didn’t give birth to me. Apparently my birth mom died of an overdose? Now, if I was simply adopted, that wouldn’t be a big deal, because a mother isn’t always by blood.” I dragged my hand over my hair, smoothing the strands down. The bun had slipped and was falling free. “But according to her, she’s only been my mom for about four years, and that’s kind of a big deal.”
Luc’s hands closed at his sides.
“And you know? I didn’t believe her, because that sounds bananas, but then she turned into a Luxen. Right in front of me.”
He closed his eyes.
A knot expanded in my throat and moved to my chest. “But you already knew what she was. Didn’t you?”
He didn’t answer.
“Didn’t you?” I shouted, hearing my voice snap.
Lashes lifted. “I knew.”
“Of course you did. And you know what else she told me this morning? She told me why I didn’t have a trace on me. Because supposedly I was given some kind of weird serum,” I said, swallowing against the knot. “But you know that, too.”
“Damn her.” Exhaling heavily, Luc walked away from the door and sat on the edge of the couch. “I didn’t know she was going to tell you. If I had, I would’ve been there.”
Knots formed in my stomach, twisting up my insides. He said that like he meant it, and a distant part of me knew he spoke the truth.
“Been there for what, Luc? Were you going to be there and hold my hand while she told me that whatever memories I think I have, I don’t? Were you going to share coffee with her while she told me that my name isn’t Evelyn Dasher?”
He looked like he wanted to get up, but he stayed put. “I would’ve been there to make sure you were okay. Helped you understand who you—”
“Don’t say I’m not Evelyn. That is who I am.” My voice warbled. “My name is Evie.”
“I know.” He softened his voice. “You’re Evie.”
My muscles tensed. “So, let’s say that this isn’t some kind of dream and it’s real. Why didn’t you tell me the truth? You had chances. Especially when you told me about her—about what happened. You could’ve told me then.”
“I could’ve.” His gaze searched mine. “But would you have believed me? Honestly? If I told you that you were really Nadia Holliday, but your memories were wiped, would you have listened to me or walked away?”
I inhaled raggedly. Truth was, I wouldn’t have believed him. I was having a hard time believing . . . Mom. Closing my eyes, I shook my head. “If it’s true, why did you leave me there—leave me with them? I was supposed to be your bestest friend in the whole world. You said you lo—” Unable to finish that, I opened my eyes again. “Why would you leave me with them?”
His pupils turned white. “I never really left you.”26
Pressure squeezed my chest. Denial was the best defense against the confusion and raw pain springing forth inside me. My mouth moved for a good half a minute without words, and then finally, I said the only thing suitable: “Is this a joke? A really bad joke that—”
“It’s not a joke.” His voice turned hoarse. “I made a deal with them to save your life. It was the worst and the best decision. Worst because I am incredibly selfish. And best because I had to do something incredibly unselfish.”
“I don’t—”
“You don’t remember. I know. But I remember. I remember everything every damn day of my life.”
I stared at him. “Don’t say that.”
His eyes burned bright. “Did you come here, hoping I’d lie to you now?” He rose then. “I’m done lying. You want the truth? Here it is. I never stopped thinking about you. I never forgot. I never stopped looking out for you. You forgot me, and that’s okay, because you had no choice, but—”
“Stop it!” I shouted. “I know who I am. My name is Evie. That has always been my name.”
Luc shot forward, gripping my shoulders. “Listen to me. You are Evie now, but you’ve only been Evelyn Dasher for about twelve hundred and seventy-eight days and about roughly eight hours, and yeah, I could tell you the seconds if you want to get really detailed.”
My lips parted.
“But you were Nadia for nearly thirteen years prior to that.”
“Stop saying that.” I wiggled my arms free, stepping back. “The memories I have right now aren’t fake.” I curled my hands into fists. “They are real—”
“You prefer Coke over Pepsi. How do you think I knew to give you one?”