Page 79 of A Violet Obsession

“No. No, it’s not⁠—”

“Then what?”

“It’s about your parents.”

“What about them?”

His tongue presses into his cheek as he searches for the right words. “Did you know you were…”

I know instantly what his “working the edges” has uncovered.

“Adopted?” I finish for him. “Yeah, Scott was thrilled to share that with me.”

Finn looks conflicted. “No,” he says. “I mean…”

And there it is. A rock drops into my stomach.

“That my parents stole me.”

He remains silent for a long moment. “Did you know?”

“Not while they were alive.” I pull the blanket tighter around me. “I had no idea. They were my parents. They were strict and weird about some things, but nothing in my life ever made me question they weren’t really mine.” I huff out a breath. “It wasn’t until after.”

“After what?”

“After your mom called CPS about six months after my parents died.”

His brows pull together.

“She was worried about me. I know I wasn’t myself on the phone when I talked to her or Emma.” A small, sad laugh escapes me. “I think part of me wanted them to know something was wrong. I wanted someone to come and save me. But when my social worker showed up for a surprise visit a few weeks later, Scott was so calm. He was good at faking it short-term… knew all the right things to say and do.” I sigh. “After she left, he made it very clear why I needed to make sure no one ever looked too closely at our situation.”

I pick at a loose thread on the blanket. It’s easier than looking at him. “According to Scott, my parents couldn’t have a baby. And they couldn’t adopt one because my dad—” I stop. It still feels strange to say. “Because my dad had a drinking problem. A bunch of DUIs, so no agency was ever going to approve them.”

I make a sound that’s almost a laugh. “Which honestly makes more sense of their whole ‘no alcohol in the house’ rule.”

Finn doesn’t laugh.

“Scott was a lot of things,” I continue, pushing the next part out. “But he and my—my mom—they grew up together in foster care. It was rough. And he loved her. I think she was probably the only person he ever actually loved. So, when she wanted a baby she couldn’t have, he wanted to help her.”

“Help her how?”

“One of his cellmates had a sister. The kind of person who’s happy to get paid to make paperwork say whatever you want it to say.” My throat tightens. “I was three. No living family, according to Scott.”

“You’re nothing, you know that? Product of a crackhead whore and whatever john was too dumb to put a condom on right. No one wanted you. You’re lucky I got you placed with my sister. You want people snooping? They’ll throw you in a group home, and you’ll end up a junkie whore—which is what you were headed for anyway.”

I blink hard, and the memory of his face fades.

“I don’t know the specifics, just that they paid for documents,” I explain. “To make it look like I’d always been theirs. A birth certificate, everything. A three-year-old in an overcrowded system who nobody wanted was an easy thing to lose. Move some files, change a name, check a box… And it’s like I never existed at all.” I shrug. “They made me someone else. Which made it easier to do again when I was nineteen. Because I’ve never really been anyone. Just a moving pawn in someone else’s game.” My voice cracks on the last word.

“Someone knew you were missing.” Finn contradicts me. “I found you on a missing children’s database.”

“What? Wait. Does that mean I have a family out there somewhere?” Hope flares to life in my chest only to be extinguished when Finn shakes his head.

“No, that part was true. The missing child report was filed out of DCFS, and when I checked your records, your parents are listed as deceased.”

“Oh.” I grimace. “I don’t know why I feel sad, it’s not like I knew them.”

Finn doesn’t say anything. He simply sinks to the floor in front of me, wraps his arms around me, and pulls me in, pressing my face against his neck and spreading his hand wide across my back.