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His father narrowed his gaze as he looked at Nan. “We all know she cared about you the most.”

Was he jealous? No that was a ridiculous thought. His father could have repaired his relationship with Nan at any time, but he was too arrogant and selfish. He didn’t care about anyone but himself.

“I’m leaving.” He paused. Should he ask him? Would he even know? He sighed. He had no other way of finding her right now. “Do you know Gigi? Grandma said she’s been living with her and helping her.”

He had no idea why Grandma hadn’t told him about her.

“Ah, the charity case. Yeah, what about her?”

“Have you got any contact details? I need to get in touch with her.”

“Just go to your grandmother’s house. She’s probably there, eating all the food and wasting power.” His father’s eyes grew calculating. “Now that your grandmother isn’t there, you can tell her that her services are no longer required. She needs to get packed up and leave by tonight.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t already done that.”

“I’ve been in Sydney. Meant to do it before I left, but with all the time it took to arrange to have your Nan moved into here I forgot about the girl.”

So he’d put Nan into care and then just left?

“Hope to God she hasn’t taken anything of value. Wouldn’t put it past her with her background.”

“Her background?” Macca asked.

“Father’s never worked a day in his life. Been arrested multiple times. I told Mum not to hire her. Told her she’d regret it. But you know what your grandmother was like when she got an idea in her head. She thought the girl needed saving. I figured I’d be able to kick her out the first time she messed up, but either she’s smarter than I gave her credit for or she’s kept her nose clean. Still, time for her free ride to stop. Get rid of her.”

“Nan isn’t dead yet,” he growled at the other man. His father didn’t even have the good grace to look apologetic.

Wouldn’t he be proud if he knew that Macca had already kicked Gigi out?

And that made him feel even worse. Was he becoming like his father?

Lord, he hoped not. He had to make this mistake right. First thing was to find Gigi and apologize.

* * *

Christ, where was she?

Macca tapped his finger against his cell phone. He’d searched through his grandmother’s stuff for any sort of contact details for Gigi and found nothing. It was late afternoon and he was no closer to finding her.

If he could find a last name, he could at least have Corbin look into her.

Wait. If she lived here then there might be something in the room where she was staying. He got up and wandered down to the bedrooms. He opened up the bedroom where he’d stayed as a kid. Christ, it looked just the same as when he’d left at seventeen. He had to smile as he saw the photos sitting on the bookcase. Pictures of him, his grandmother and mother. Nan had been closer to her daughter-in-law than her own son. He shut the door then moved down the corridor to the spare bedroom at the end of the hall.

Opening it, he instantly knew it was hers. The scent of sweet peas lingered in the air, reminding him of her. The room was clean and tidy without much stuff. The bed was neatly made, one of his grandmother’s afghan rugs served as a comforter. Lying against the pillow, in a place of pride, was a worn stuffed koala bear.

That gave him pause. But lots of grown women had stuffed toys they kept from their childhood. It didn’t mean anything. He glanced around. It was the only toy in sight. It was probably just something special she’d kept. She didn’t seem very old, maybe twenty at the most.

He felt bad for searching through her stuff but he needed to find her. Urgency beat at him. He moved to the closet first. He was shocked to find how little stuff was in there. One summer dress. A pair of jeans. A pair of sandals and sneakers. That was it.

He swallowed heavily. Fuck. Had he kicked someone out who had nothing? What a fucking asshole. He moved to the dresser. Five pairs of panties. Three t-shirts. Two pairs of shorts. How the hell did someone live with only this much clothing? Even though it was hot now, it grew cooler in winter, especially once you were acclimatized. Why didn’t she have a sweater at least?

He muttered under his breath as he moved to the bedside drawers. Opening one, he drew out a notebook. On the front was a unicorn. It was sparkly, glittery, exactly what he’d expect a little girl to own. He opened it up.

Bingo.

On the inside cover, scrawled in very messy handwriting, was a warning.

Property of Georgina Rose Raymond.


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