“Yeah, he wouldn’t tell us a thing last night,” Sebastian grumbles, glancing at his dad. “He wanted to wait for you.”
Callum lets out another sigh. “Why don’t we go into the kitchen? I could use a cup of coffee. The coffee at the police station gave me heartburn.”
We all follow the head of the Royal household into the massive, modern kitchen that I fell in love with the moment I moved in. As Callum walks over to the coffeemaker, the rest of us gather at the table. We all sit down as if this is just any other normal Sunday, not the Sunday after Reed was arrested for murder and a dead man walked out of the ocean to our front door.
It’s so surreal. I can’t make sense of this. Any of it.
In the chair beside mine, Reed rests a hand on my thigh, although I’m not sure if it’s to comfort me or himself. Or maybe he’s comforting us both.
After he’s settled in his seat, Easton gets right down to business. “So are you finally gonna tell us why aren’t you dead?” he asks my father.
Steve smiles faintly. “I still can’t tell if you’re happy or sad about that fact.”
Neither, I almost blurt out. I manage to tamp down the response at the last second, but it’s the truth. Steve’s reappearance is more confusing than anything. And maybe a bit terrifying.
“Happy,” the twins reply in unison.
“Obvs,” Easton agrees.
“How are you alive?” Reed, this time. His voice is sharp, and his hand moves soothingly over my thigh, as if he knows how on edge I am.
Steve leans back in his chair. “I don’t know what Dinah’s told you, if anything, about our little trip.”
“You went hang-gliding and both harnesses failed,” Callum says as he joins us at the table. He sets a cup of coffee in front of Steve, then sits down and sips his own cup. “Dinah was able to deploy her emergency ’chute. You dropped into the ocean. I spent four weeks searching for your body.”
A crooked grin pops up on Steve’s face. “And only five million, you said. Did you cheap out on me, old man?”
Callum doesn’t find this amusing. His expression grows as stony as the face of a cliff. “Why didn’t you come straight home after you’d been rescued? It’s been nine months, for Pete’s sake.”
Steve runs a shaky hand over his jaw. “Because I didn’t get rescued until a few days ago.”
“What?” Callum looks startled. “So where the hell were you for all those months?”
“I don’t know if it was the illness or malnourishment, but I can’t remember everything. I washed up on shore on Tavi—a tiny island about two hundred miles east of Tonga. I was severely dehydrated and in and out of consciousness for weeks. The natives took care of me, and I would have returned earlier except the only way off the island was via a fishing boat that comes around twice a year to trade with the islanders.”
Your dad is talking, my brain tells me. I search his face for traces of myself and find nothing except our shared eye color. Other than that, I have my mother’s features, her body type, her hair. I’m the younger, blue-eyed version of Maggie Harper, but she must’ve made no impression on Steve because he shows no signs of recognition.
“Apparently the islanders harvest a particular seagull egg that is sold as a delicacy in Asia. The fishing boat took me to Tonga where I then begged my way back to Sydney.” He takes a sip of his coffee before making the understatement of the century. “It’s a miracle I’m alive.”
“When did you get to Sydney?” Sebastian asks.
My dad purses his lips in thought. “I don’t remember. I want to say three days ago?”
Callum balks. “And you didn’t think to call and tell us you were alive?”
“I had some matters to take care of,” Steve says tightly. “I knew that if I called, you’d be on the first plane out, and I didn’t want to be distracted from my search for answers.”
“Answers?” Reed echoes, his tone sharper than before.
“I went to find the guide who led the hang-gliding expedition, and track down my things. I’d left behind my passport, a wallet, clothes.”
“Did you find the guide?” Easton’s caught up in the story, too. We all are.
“No. The tour guide had been missing for months. Once I hit that dead end, I went to the American embassy and they shipped me home. I came directly here from the airport.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t go home,” Callum says grimly. “Or you might’ve been arrested, too.”
“Where’s my wife?” Steve asks, sounding wary. “Dinah and Brooke are attached at the hip.”
“Dinah’s still in Paris.”
“What were they doing there?”
“She and Brooke were shopping,” Callum pauses. “For the wedding.”
Steve snorts. “What schmuck got suckered in for that?”
“This one.” Callum points to himself.
“You’re kidding.”
“She was pregnant. I thought it was mine.”
“But you had the vas—” Steve cuts himself off and quickly looks around the table to see if anyone had caught his slip.