Logan swallowed hard. “That’s so sad. I thought she just didn’t want us.”
“No, she did. It’s why I don’t hate her. Our mother wasn’t given a choice. Her babies were ripped from her arms.”
He looked away. “I wish I couldn’t met her before she passed.”
“Me too.”
“My adoptive mom met our biological mom. And they talked. Our father didn’t even acknowledge me. And I’m assuming you too. He said he never slept with her, and just left her out to dry. I never want to meet that bastard.”
“Me neither.”
“Did you parents meet our biological mom?”
“No. All they knew was she was too young to raise a baby.”
“I can’t believe she’s dead. I should’ve looked harder for her. I mean, I tried. But nothing turned up. I thought I had all the time in the world. I guess not. This is so sad.” His voice wavered as he fought back tears.
In an instant, every trace of a smile vanished completely from Dylan’s face, leaving him strangely blank. He stared at Logan a second longer, before lowering his eyes quickly to the floor—trying to collect himself. A full thirty seconds passed before he managed to speak.
“Are you sure she’s dead? It’s he
r?”
Logan nodded slowly, feeling oddly protective. Was this how you were supposed to feel around family? Was he technically the older brother? “A few days ago. Cancer.”
Dylan absorbed this for a moment, looking grim.
“What kind of cancer?”
The question took Logan by surprise. It was so obvious, he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t thought of it himself—as pragmatic as he was. All adopted children wondered about their medical history at some point or another. Cancer was a rather ominous red flag for him to have overlooked. Then, just as he was about to quietly panic, a little voice sounded in the back of his head as a detail he’d read in the report floated suddenly to the surface.
“Breast cancer,” he answered suddenly.
He had long ago written the woman out of his life’s narrative before he knew all the facts, but he had no idea how Dylan might feel about her. “They told me...they told me it was quick.”
They had told him no such thing, but he couldn’t stand to see that look on Dylan’s face for even a second longer. It was like the man had been born to smile. Take that smile away, and he was lost without it.
Dylan nodded slowly, trying to reconcile it all in his mind. A dead mother, and a twin brother all in twenty-four hours.
“Do you have a picture?” Dylan asked.
Logan pulled out his phone and showed him the pictures he found in his investigation. “Um, that one right there was taken after she had us.”
“She was so young. So beautiful.”
“Yes, she was.”
“We look just like her.”
“Sure do.”
Dylan blanked out as he pondered everything. There was only so much the human mind could take. “Fuck, I need a drink.”
Chapter 7
The place Dylan had picked to meet was a bar in the heart of downtown Cleveland. A little grittier than the places Logan was used to, but to be frank, he appreciated the anonymity. At any rate, a drink was a drink. And it was badly needed.
“Hey there, sweetheart.” Dylan winked as a pretty waitress came to take their order. “I’ll have a Guinness with a side of Jack. You know what—make it a double.”