Page 129 of Choosing Us

“It was at his home in Chelsea, but he had his close friends and core team members from work come from all over, so it was a bit of a regional thing. Theo told me Van had to pull out the big guns to make an impression on the babies since he will naturally be the favorite uncle by proximity alone.” Pippa and Savannah both laugh at that, and I suspect watching Theo and his brother battle it out will be entertaining for everyone … except for Theo and Van.

The party’s images continue, until ice runs through my veins, and I forget to breathe for a moment. “Sorry, Pippa? Could you … Could you go back to the previous photo, please?” I glance over my shoulder, and Pippa gives me a strange look, but flips back to the previous photo.

I set my coffee down on the table next to me, not sure what I’m looking at, but also telling myself there’s no way I’m seeing what I’m seeing.

It couldn’t be … right? But what if…

I step closer to the screen as the room goes silent.

“Is this the photo you wanted to see, Sophia?” Pippa asks.

I nod slowly, and without taking my eyes off the screen, I ask her, “Can you zoom in a bit? Just pinch in a little?”

Pippa laughs. “To my brother? He is single, Sophia. I’m happy to introduce you.”

There are a few giggles at that, but Savannah stands next to me, and without touching me—she wouldn’t know why that was important, but fuck was it important—she quietly asks, “Soph, are you okay? What is it? What can I do?”

My heart rate is galloping at the speed of light, and I gulp in a large breath that sounds like a gasp.

Harlow stands on my other side and asks if I’m okay, but while I appreciate their concern, I can’t believe my own eyes.

“No, sorry, not on Van. On the girl next to him.” Standing next to Van in the photo is a woman who looks to be in her twenties. She has long dark blonde hair, thick framed glasses, and her head is thrown back with a wide smile from laughing at something.

“Oh!” Pippa’s voice is a bit higher than normal, but she zooms in, and I hear her gasp from behind me. “What are the odds of that? I didn’t notice it until now.”

“What’s shocking here?” Harlow asks.

“I don’t understand how this could be,” I half say to the room and half to myself. Out of habit, I pull my long dark brown hair back and over one shoulder.

And I know the moment Harlow sees it.

On the right side of my neck is a small but distinguishing birthmark that almost looks like the shape of a heart.

The birthmark is in the same location as an eerily similar mark on the girl in the photo taken in Van’s kitchen.

There is a bead of sweat running down the back of my neck, which might as well be a flaming red flag. Typically, I don’t show physical reactions to stress—the control was beaten into me years ago.

But I’m not in control right now, and I’m on the verge of losing it completely.

“Do you … do you know her name?” I finally tear my eyes away from the screen to look at Pippa, who is studying me right now, along with everyone else in the room. My voice sounds almost normal, but I can feel the slight quiver in my lower lip. I didn’t bring my personal protection dog with me today, I dropped him off at Liam’s brother’s so he could take Bruno for a run, but I have a sudden need to be near my dog.

I am exposed.

I am vulnerable.

And I am flirting with a full-blown panic attack.

“I met a lot of people, let me think. I think … I think her name was Lenora, or Lennox, or maybe it was Lennon? I can ask Van. Sophia, I can call him right now.”

“Sophia, honey, do you know that woman in the photo?” Savannah asks gently as she stands at my side.

I start to shake, then end up nodding my head before shrugging. “I’m not sure. I didn’t think it was possible, but…”

“That what was possible, Soph?” Harlow asks.

“This birthmark is genetic in my family. My mother had it, her sisters had it, I believe my grandmother had it as well. You have to understand—I thought they were dead. I thought all of them were dead.” Tears start to well in my eyes, and my breath is quickening as the pieces come together of what this must mean.

“You thought who was dead?” Savannah looks from me to the screen. The more I look at her, the more I assume the family resemblance in our facial structures and coloring must be obvious to everyone else.