The President's Daughter - Mariah Stewart [71]
“Well, the piece of the story that Simon Keller hadn’t known about when he first came here was that Blythe had had a child by Hayward.” Jude’s eyes began to well with tears, but she forced her voice to remain steady. “A baby girl. A few months later, Blythe died. . . .”
“I’m sorry about your friend, Mom.” Dina patted her mother’s shoulder. “What happened to the baby?”
Jude took one last long, deep breath.
“I raised her as my daughter.”
Dina’s head tilted slightly to one side, as if she was trying to understand. “I’m not following this. I’m confused—”
“You were that baby, Dina.”
“Mom, that’s crazy.”
“It’s the truth.”
“No, it isn’t.” Dina shook her head. “No, it’s not.”
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”
“No. No, this can’t be true.” Dina pushed Jude away and stood on trembling legs.
“I know I should have told you a long time ago. But I promised her and then—”
“No. I don’t believe this.” Dina began to pace. “How could this be? I don’t understand.”
“Dina, please sit down and let me explain. . . .” Jude reached for Dina’s hands and found them suddenly cold. She began to rub them the way she had when Dina was little and had just come in from playing in the snow.
“Explain?” Dina pulled her hands away and appeared blank for a long moment. “How can you explain that I’m not your child? I’m not your child?”
“I think you need to hear the entire story.”
“There’s more?” Rage began to replace the confusion in Dina’s eyes. “You’ve been lying to me all my life. Isn’t that enough?”
“It wasn’t because I wanted to—”
“How could you have lied to me all of my life?” Dina was shaking from head to toe. “How could you not be my mother?”
“Dina . . .” Jude whispered, feeling more helpless than she ever had.
“Who are you?” Dina cried. “Who are you if you’re not my mother?”
“Dina, please, if you’ll calm down and listen—”
“Calm down? You tell me that everything I ever thought I knew about you—everything I knew about myself—is a lie, that my whole life, my whole existence, is a lie, and you think I should calm down?”
Dina’s breath began to come in sharp, shallow spurts, and tears ran down her face. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Because after Blythe died, your father made me swear not to.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he was afraid for you. Afraid that someone would want to harm you if the truth came out.”
“Why?”
“Because Blythe’s death had not been an accident. You were only a few months old when she died.” Jude knew she was leaving out a lot but figured this was probably not the time to go into detail.
“Why are you telling me now?”
“Because after what happened tonight . . . I just can’t believe that it’s coincidence. And I can’t justify risking another ‘accident.’ I’ve already put you at risk by not telling you sooner.”
“You don’t think it was Simon, do you?”
“No . . . I don’t know what I think. I don’t know who to trust or who to turn to.” Jude rose, wringing her hands. “I can understand how shocked you are, how hurt you are, and I’m more sorry than I can ever say. Yes, I’ve lied to you all your life. I won’t blame you if you hate me, if you leave and never come back. But through the years, I’ve done the best that I could to keep you safe. Even now, nothing is more important to me than your safety.”
“Will you tell me everything?” Dina studied the face of the woman who stood before her.
Jude nodded, her sad eyes never leaving her daughter’s face. “I met Blythe my freshman year in college. We had one or two classes together and lived on the same floor in the same dorm, but that’s all we had in common. She was beautiful and rich and everyone admired her. I was poor and only managed to get to college with heavy financial aid. Somehow we became friends—no one was more surprised than I was when she asked me to room with her sophomore year. Our personalities just seemed to complement each other, and over the years, we became the best of friends. That friendship lasted until the day she died.”
Jude swallowed