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look up, surprised. Rosie’s boyfriend is standing in
the doorway of the spare room. In pajamas.
“I just woke up,” he says. “She’s gone.”
Megan glances at him, then looks at me. She
hesitates.
My stomach hardens. “He’s with Rosie?”
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Rosie
It’s still pitch black when we reach the fish market,
but the place is already bustling. Fishermen unload their
glistening wares while customers jostle and crowd round
the counters, scouring the writhing mass for the biggest
and best fish from the morning’s catch. huddle deeper
into the padded jacket Jack’s lent me, burrowing my face
away from the biting cold—and the stench!
“Fragrant, huh?” Jack returns proudly with his fish
gleaming like treasure in his box. He lifts it up and inhales
deeply. “Poo-ee!
love the smell of fresh fish in the
morning!” He grins at me, his cheeks pink from the cold,
his eyes sparkling. “Brr! We’re lucky it’s not snowing.”
stare at him. “Are you serious? You come down
here in the snow? In the middle of the night?”
Jack laughs. “It’s not night—it’s morning! See?” He
nods toward the churning mass of black sea slapping at
the shingle, and the horizon beyond. The sun is just
creeping up over the edge, and the begi
returning to the world. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
shiver in his jacket and he laughs.
“Come on,” he says, “let’s dump these and grab hot
drink to warm up. There’s greasy spoon over there that
does mean hot chocolate.”
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“With marshmallows?” mumble through the coat,
my nose an icicle.
“Is there any other kind?” He grins, leading the way.
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Holly
“She’s still here?” look at Megan accusingly as she
pours tea into three mugs. “She stayed the night? Here?
“I’m go
boyfriend gestures to the door. “I’m just go
disappears back upstairs.
“It was late, sweetie.” Megan hands me
mug and
leads me into the living room. “She had nowhere else to
go.”
“How about back to England?” mutter, taking sip
of tea. It burns my tongue.
Megan sinks onto the sofa and sighs. “I can’t
imagine what you’re feeling right now. It’s an awful shock,
but
Rosie might be his daughter, sweetie.”
“I’m his daughter!”
protest, my eyes stinging.
“Aren’t enough?” stare at her, daring her to answer.
“Maybe should just go away and leave them to it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Holly, you mean the world to
your dad. You should have seen him last night—he was
beside himself with worry.”
“Yeah, so worried he replaced me, huh?”
“Holly!”
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? He’s got
new daughter
now.” hug my knees. “His real one.”
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“That’s not true! Holly, don’t even think it. Your dad
loves you so much—”
“Yeah, but he’s not my dad, is he?”
“He’ll always be your dad!”
“It’s not the same, though—it’s not biological. He’s
her dad now.”
“Holly, we don’t even know that—not for sure! They
did test last night—let’s wait for the results before—”
“What’s the point?” sigh. “He knows she’s his—he
looks at her and he sees her mother—Katharine—doesn’t
he? Look at me! I’m
redhead—I stand out like
sore
thumb! No wonder she didn’t want me—she knew was
mistake, an impostor …”
“Holly, that’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” bite my lip hard, twisting my finger tightly
in my hair—my horrible ugly, traitorous red hair.
“Look at me,” Megan says suddenly. “Look at me,
Holly. I’m not your biological mother—I never was and
never will be.” She squeezes my hand. “But do you think
that love you any less? That any of this matters to me? To
Ben?”
look at him, carefully building his tower of wooden
blocks—painstakingly adding one and then another, only
for them all to come crashing down. Like my life. My heart
aches. Dad’s not the only one could lose …
“That’s not the same,” sigh. “Ben doesn’t know the
difference.”
“Exactly. Exactly, Holly—that’s the point!”
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“It’s not! It’s different!” insist. “It’s different when
it’s your child, part of you …” trail off, stabbing pain in
my chest.
“Okay,” Megan says carefully, leaning closer and
looking me in the eye. “Okay, then. Do you honestly think
love you any less than love Ben?”
look at her, then look at Ben, hugging my knees
hard. “You must—he’s yours you gave birth to him—”
Megan shakes her head. “Oh, sweetie, it’s just not
that simple. Giving birth doesn’t make you
mom,” she
says. “Look at this Katharine woman. She abandoned her
baby—she’s nobody’s mother. But your dad—your dad
would move heaven and earth for you, and not because he
thought you shared his genes, but because he loves you so
much It’s that love that counts—that bond. You’re team.
You’ll get through this.”
stare into my tea, biting my lip.
“And what about Rosie?” whisper. “How does she
fit into all this?”
Megan sighs. “That’s just something we’re go
have to figure out.”
248
Rosie
We slide into
booth by the window and clamp
my hands around my steaming hot chocolate, the feeling
slowly returning to my fingers, the fishy aroma lingering
persistently around us.
“Isn’t it spectacular?” Jack sighs, gazing out the
window. “My favorite time of day.”
must admit the scarlet sunrise is beautiful—a lot
more so now I’m sitting indoors feeling warm
marshmallows melting in my mouth.
“If only it rose later,” muse.
Jack grins. “Sorry about that. I’m used to getting up
early. My dad ran chippie, so after my
levels worked
there for bit while tried to figure out what to do with
my life. He always sent me down to the market at the
crack of dawn to get the best fish, but didn’t mind. kind
of loved it. fell in love with the sunrise. The peace. The
promise of brand-new day.” He stares out at the golden
light spreading over the horizon. “That’s how
met
Katharine, actually.”
stare at him. “At fish market?”
“No!” he laughs,
deep warm sound. “No, Kathy
wouldn’t be caught dead at fish market. No, she’d gone
down to see the sea, she said. She was standing there,
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right on the beach, shivering in her miniskirt and fluffy
white jacket.” He pauses. “I’ll always remember that
jacket …”
watch him closely.
“Sorry.” He clears his throat. “I’m rambling. It’s been
so long since I’ve spoken of her …” He shakes his head.
“Anyway, how’d you like your hot chocolate?”
“Please,” whisper. “Tell me.”
Jack looks at me for moment, his eyes uncertain.
Then he takes deep breath.
“She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.” He
sighs, looking out the window, into the past. “Her hair was
tangled from the wind, her mascara streaked across her
cheeks, and she’d lost her shoes somehow—she was
standing there barefoot on the pebbles, with goose bumps
all down her legs—she was freezing—but she wouldn’t
leave. offered to call her taxi, but she refused, said she
wanted to see the sun come up, that she wouldn’t leave