Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
I don’t know what to think anymore.
The air hums with a heavy current. My first feeling isn’t even surprise. Dread is covered in remorse and uncertainty.
“It’s wrong,” Nova says. “The test is wrong. There’s a lot of blood here. It’s contaminated.”
“Phoebe just pricked his finger,” Oliver tells his brother. “She didn’t take it from the opened wound. We’ll just wait.”
We wait.
No one says anything except to ask Trevor how he’s feeling. He’s in and out of consciousness. I keep my fingers on his pulse.
“He’ll be okay,” I tell Hailey.
She’s so pale, and it’s not from the lack of blood. It’s like she’s seen a monster.
Oliver’s phone rings shrilly, and Phoebe jolts. “Fuck.”
He shuts off the timer, and Hailey crunches upward to check the test. As soon as she sees it, she buries her anguished face in her palm. A pained noise like a fisted sob comes out of her.
Phoebe looks. “It’s AB negative.”
“No kidding,” Oliver says with a short breath. “I just thought she looked gutted because we’re out of candy kisses.” His eyes flash to me.
Phoebe turns to me.
Like they’ll expect me to chime in and say, I told you so.
But if Trevor isn’t Addison’s son, then this is deceit on another level. I almost . . . I almost can’t believe it, and that scares me, too. There is actual proof sitting in front of us. So that means, regardless of my aversion toward our parents, I don’t want to believe that my brother isn’t my brother.
I don’t want to believe that our parents could’ve done worse than what I imagined.
I don’t want to believe my entire life could be a sham.
I’ve been fooled.
We’ve been fooled.
“She was pregnant,” Nova tells everyone. “We all saw Addison pregnant.”
That’s true. I have memories of my mom with a big, round belly. I was six at the time. They were all five.
Are those even our real ages?
My stomach churns, and Oliver says what I’m also thinking: “Did any of us see Addison’s bare stomach? No shirt covering her belly.”
“How would any of us remember that?” Nova questions. “We were five.”
Hailey is lying flat on the table, her hands pressed to her face. If she remembers, the answer is she never saw.
“She could’ve been pretending,” Phoebe says, her brows bunching with the pain of this theory.
“Pretending to be pregnant?” Nova says with traces of skepticism.
Oliver is wincing. “She could’ve faked her pregnancy with a fake belly that both Hailey and Phoebe have worn before, and she did it to convince all of us that Trevor was hers. How is that not in the realm of possibility, Nova? We’ve all pulled bigger cons than that.”
Silence.
“When have they ever pulled a con on us?” Nova questions all of us.
It sits in the room for a long minute.
Until I whisper, “From birth.”
Oliver starts laughing, his face twisting. “This is classic . . . a classic. They wanted another little child with little hands when we got too old, so he could be the cute little innocent kid, and so they what—steal Trevor?”
My brother’s pulse thumps beneath my fingers.
Trevor has a similar eye color to mine and Hailey’s. Except flecks of blue lie inside his grays. And Hailey—does she even look like me? She has a thin nose, one that our mom said she got from Grandma Nellie.
A grandma we’ve never met.
I grit harder, my jaw clenching.
“What about us?” Phoebe asks her brothers. “We’re triplets. You can’t fake that.”
It’s also true—they’re very clearly related, even being fraternal.
Hailey drops her hands, her cheeks blotchy with mascara. “You’d be good shills. The perfect shills.” Her voice carries a tremor. “If the three of you look undeniably related, none of us would ever question our parentage.”
Oliver freezes in place. “Rocky wasn’t old enough to remember our mom being pregnant.”
“How convenient,” I mutter.
“What if they’re not our mothers?” Oliver questions with outstretched arms. “What if they’re not our fathers?” He’s saying what everyone is contemplating. Not one looks surprised by his declaration.
“There are no pictures,” Phoebe realizes. “There are no pictures of any pregnancies. Not Addison with Rocky. Not Addison with Hailey. Not Elizabeth with us.”
“They couldn’t incriminate themselves,” Hailey says quietly. “That’s what they always told us . . . but is that even the truth?” She looks to me. “Rocky?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
That’s my truth.
I have no fucking clue.
Nova finally stands up from beside Trevor. “Would they even tell us the truth if we asked?”
“No,” most of us say.
“That’s what I thought.” Nova sighs out and drags his gaze, snapping gloves off his hands. He catches my eyes, holding for an extended beat.
We’ve been on opposite sides for so long—clashing when it comes to our mothers, my father—and I never thought he’d question them, not for anything.
I was wrong.
“ ‘Believe nothing you hear, and only half of what you see.’ ” Nova nods to me.