Page 115 of The Chosen
“But I’ll survive,” I added before lowering my voice. “How are you?”
Her smile softened. “Good. Really good.”
“Good.”
Silence settled over the room as I stared at Sarah, unsure what to even say to her.
Since I found her all those years ago, I’d watched her from a distance. I never thought I’d be this close to her, let alone speak to her. God, she looked so much like Amber. Chandler. In her smile. In the shape of her face. In her raw determination.
“I didn’t mean—” I started at the exact moment she said, “I just wanted to?—”
We both stopped short with a nervous laugh.
“You first,” I told her.
She took a breath. “I just wanted to thank you.” Emotion filled her voice, making it waver. “For everything. For keeping tabs on me all this time. For not believing any of the police reports. For never giving up.”
Her eyes welled with tears as she shifted her gaze toward Ariana. “And thank you for risking your life for me, not even knowing if I was still alive. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
“No repayment necessary,” I assured her evenly. “Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Start making those videos again. Traveling the world. Going on adventures. I miss watching them.”
“I’m not sure my family will be overly enthusiastic about the idea after all this,” Sarah laughed, “but I’ll see what I can do.”
“It sounds like you have really good parents.”
Sarah met my gaze, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I have four amazing parents.”
Her statement hit me harder than I had expected. When this all began, my goal was never to tell Sarah who I was. I just wanted her safe. Happy. Alive.
Her acceptance of me and who I was never entered into the equation.
Still, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for it.
“Thank you.”
She nodded. “Would you like to meet them? They’re just outside. It’s okay if you’re not up for it,” she added quickly. “They’d like to meet you. Thank you for themselves, but only if you’re up for it.”
“Of course. I’d like that.”
“Great.” Sarah beamed and spun on her heels, her brunette waves bouncing with her steps as she rushed into the hallway.
A few moments later, she returned with a couple in their sixties.
I already knew exactly who they were. Gregory and Jocelyn Laurendeau.
Gregory taught film history at a university in Atlanta. Jocelyn worked as a dental hygienist. Married for thirty years. No biological children. But they’d adopted Sarah a few years after they’d adopted their son, Lucian.
Good people.
Hell, great people.
The kind of people I’d prayed Sarah would end up with all those years ago.
And looking at the love I could physically feel they had for their daughter, I knew she had.
