Don't Say a Word - Barbara Freethy [113]
Julia looked at Alex. He was paler now than when they'd exited the thrill ride. She had a feeling it to every last ounce of courage he had to sit down the table.
"Thank you for coming," Charles said quietly.
"Does Brady know you left us the note?" Alex asked.
Charles shook his head. "I wasn't supposed to have any contact with you. It was part of the deal I made twenty-five years ago. As soon as you left yesterday, a moving truck arrived, as well as a package of papers for a new identity. I had no choice but to leave. However, I had a feeling you'd come back, and I didn't want to disappear on you again. So I watched the house and left the note in your car. I hoped you'd come here after you finished with Brady." He paused. "What did he tell you?"
"That we'd compromised your safety," Alex said.
"Mr. Brady also wants to provide me with a background I can show to the press," Julia added. "I told him I wasn't interested. I can't live a lie." She saw Charles flinch at her words, and she almost wished she could take them back, but she didn't. Maybe he and her mother had been able to live their lives pretending to be someone they weren't, but she couldn't do it.
"You should reconsider," Charles said. "It would make your life easier."
"My life has been nothing but easy," she replied. "My mother made sure of that." She deliberately brought her mother into the conversation. "There are things I want to ask you about her. Did you read her letter?"
Charles slowly nodded, a gleam of understanding in his eyes. "Yes, and I imagine you have a lot of questions."
"Questions my mother should have answered, but she didn't, and you're the only one who seems to know anything about her," Julia continued. "I know she was in Moscow working as a costumer with the theater group. What I don't know is what I was doing over there and how I got into that orphanage." She watched Charles closely for a reaction, but he was staring down at the tabletop now. "Please, you have to tell me. I can't go on not knowing."
When he raised his gaze to hers, she saw nothing but trouble in his expression, and she had a feeling she was going to be very sorry she'd asked.
"I don't know how to tell you this," he began.
"Just spit it out," Alex ordered.
"Sarah didn't take you to Russia with her. You were already there," Charles said.
It took a moment for his words to sink in. Then Julia's heart stopped. "Are you saying…?" She couldn't bring herself to finish the question. "Oh, God!" She put a hand to her mouth, terrified to say more. She couldn't take a breath. She felt as if an elephant had landed on her chest.
Alex put an arm around her shoulders, which was probably the only reason she didn't keel over. "Breathe," he said.
"I'm trying." She took several gulps of much-needed air "Tell her the rest," Alex said to his father.
"Sarah is the one who took you out of the orphanage and brought you to America," Charles continued. "She was a government agent. It was her job to get you out of Russia."
"No." Julia couldn't believe it. "Then who am I? Who are my parents? Why would she pretend I was her daughter? I don't understand."
"Your parents were Russian."
"Were? You make it sound like they're dead. God, are they dead?" Julia pressed her fingers to her temple, feeling a pain racing through her head.
"Julia, slow down," Alex said.
Charles looked around, obviously concerned about their conversation being overheard.
She lowered her voice, then said, "I want to know everything you know. Are my real parents dead?" It felt odd to even use the term real parents, but what else could she call them?
"Yes, they are. I'm sorry."
"Really dead or just pretend dead like you and my mother-I mean, Sarah?"
"They died in an explosion at their home."
"No," she whispered, grieving for the parents she'd never known and never would know.
"You were supposed to be in the house with them,"