Page 124 of The Secret Keeper

They all worked in companionable silence for a while, Willa setting the table, Harper whisking the dressing, and Frankie chopping. She’d moved on to the parsley, but her mind was not on her work.

It was on Shar.

Frankie was still upset, but she was calming down and trying to think of what she’d have done in Shar’s position. Would she have told Willa and Jason if they’d had siblings that Frankie had lost custody of?

Boy, that was a hard one. Shar undoubtedly felt a lot of guilt and shame over what had happened all those years ago, but didn’t her children deserve to know the truth?

Frankie thought they did. But when she put herself in Shar’s shoes, she could understand just how hard it would be to tell her kids. Frankie, like most mothers, wanted to be as perfect as she could be for her kids.

Admitting she’d caused something so awful to happen would be incredibly difficult.

Her feelings toward Shar softened a bit. Didn’t mean she wasn’t still hurt and angry. Earlier, when she’d been telling Willa everything that had happened, Willa had said she’d want to know if there were other siblings. She’d gone as far as to say she thought it was unfair to keep that information a secret.

Thankfully, Frankie didn’t have those kinds of secrets. She didn’t have any, really. Well, there was that speeding ticket she’d gotten two years ago when she’d been late for a meeting, but that wasn’t the same thing as children no one knew about.

Willa was on the couch now, back on her phone. Archie was curled up next to her, clearly happy to be near the person who’d most recently given him a cookie. Harper had the chicken breasts seasoned and was waiting for the grill pan to heat up.

“Willa,” Frankie called her daughter’s name softly.

Willa looked over. “Need me to do something else?”

“No, just wanted to tell you that Mitch invited us all out on his boat.”

Willa grinned. “Seriously? That is epically cool. Can I Instagram that? Or will he not like that? Aunt Harper?”

Harper laid the first piece of chicken onto the oiled pan. As it sizzled, she turned to answer. “I’ll ask him. I don’t really know what he’d think of it, but my intuition says probably not. He’s a pretty private person.”

“Yeah, okay,” Willa said. She looked a little disappointed.

“Although,” Harper said. “If you do share pictures and don’t say anything about it being his boat or mention him or whatever, I’m sure that would be fine.” She smiled. “Not as fun, I know.”

Willa nodded. “I really don’t like to use my social media for bragging, but being on Mitchell Ripley’s boat? With him? And Lucas Prime? Even my professors would be impressed with that.”

Frankie smiled. “Lucas wouldn’t care.”

Harper went back to the chicken. “I get it. I’ll talk to Mitch.”

“Thanks.” Willa was lost in her phone again, squinted at it, studying it. Using her fingers to scroll and make pictures bigger.

Frankie had no idea what she was researching. Seemed pretty interesting, though.

Harper was pulling the chicken breasts out of the pan when Willa finally got up and came over.

“Mom, you said the name of your biological father was Buck McCandless?”

Frankie nodded. “That’s right.”

Harper’s curious glance didn’t go unnoticed.

“How old do you think he’d be?”

“Now?” Frankie asked.

“He’s dead,” Harper interjected.

“Yeah,” Willa said. “But how old would he be now if he wasn’t?”

Frankie looked at Harper and shrugged. “Seventy-seven? Seventy-eight?”

Harper nodded. “Probably something like that.” She stared hard at Willa. “Why are you asking about him?”

Willa glanced at her phone one more time, then turned it around and showed them the screen. It was a Google search on the name Buck McCandless. A long list of search results filled the page.

“Because,” Willa said. “I’m pretty sure he’s still alive.”