From Riches to Redemption (Switched 2)

She frowned as she looked up at him. “You lied? About what?”

“I didn’t realize I was lying at the time, but when I said that I would be okay with this ending tonight... I’m not okay with it. I want more than just a casual fling with you, Morgan. I want to be with you. Publicly. For the long term.”

“River, I—”

He held up his hand to stop her protest before returning it to her hip. “I want you to look your father in the eye and tell him that we’re together. And that it’s serious. Because it is, despite our best intentions. At least, this is serious for me.” He considered saying more. To tell her that maybe he was falling in love with her again, but the conflicted look in her eyes held his tongue for now. “It is serious for you?”

She glanced around the room again before she looked up at him. “Yes, but...can we talk about this after the party? This is a little heavy for the dance floor.”

He swallowed his disappointment and nodded stiffly. “Sure.” He was certain she felt more for him than she was letting on, but she was afraid. Afraid of telling Daddy that she’d fallen into the same trap a second time with an unacceptable boy. Afraid of causing a scene at one of the family events and being the subject of cruel whispers. “Just, uh, forget I said anything. It was stupid of me to even bring it up tonight with everything else going on.”

“No, River. I don’t want to forget about it. I just want to—”

Her words were cut off by a sudden blast from the far side of the room that rocked the entire house.

* * *

It was absolute chaos after the explosion. After a large boom, the left side of the ballroom exploded into a fireball. Chairs flew across the room as the sound of shattering glass and horrified screams followed it. People started yelling and scattering around the house.

Morgan hardly knew what to do as the thick clouds of black smoke filled the room. All she could think about was who was in the ballroom. Who had been closest to the blast? Had it been one of her brothers? Her parents? The Nolans? Did she just lose the chance to get to know her birth parents? Was it one of the families who had come to get the keys to their new home? Her heart was breaking in her chest as she struggled to see if anyone was hurt.

River was more focused. He took Morgan’s hand and led her from the room as quickly as they could make it. They went the opposite direction of the crowds, heading for the back door and the gardens beyond it. They ran a safe distance across the lawn, collapsing together on a stone bench on the far side of the gardens.

Morgan’s lungs burned and her eyes stung from the soot, but she wanted to go back inside. She wanted to help. But River kept his firm grip on her. She finally gave up, dropping her face into her free hand with a choking sob. “What happened? I didn’t see it. Was it a gas leak?”

“I doubt that. It seemed more deliberate to me.”

“Who would do such a thing?” she asked. To set off a bomb at a party where needy families were celebrating—that was despicable.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But they’ll be caught and brought to justice. If I know anything about Trevor Steele, it’s not to cross him. He will take care of it.”

“If he can. What if he...?” She lost the words as she thought about what could’ve happened to the people in her life. They could be hurt. Or dead.

He pulled her to his chest and she rested her wet cheeks there against the lapel of his tuxedo. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze fell to the tiny marble grave marker that sat just beyond the bench to their left. To escape the danger, River had managed to lead her someplace far, far more treacherous than the burning house. She was frozen for a moment, wondering if perhaps the darkness would hide what she plainly recognized on sight.

“Everything will be okay,” he assured her. Then she felt him stiffen against her and she knew that something had changed.

Morgan was afraid to breathe. Afraid to move. Perhaps he hadn’t seen it. Or if he had, didn’t understand the significance of what he was looking at. It was just a name and a date after all. A date that was far too soon for a child of theirs to be born.

“Morgan?” he asked.

She could feel his fingers start to press more insistently into her upper arms. “Yes?”

“What am I looking at?”

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut for a moment and then forced herself to sit up. This was it—the moment she’d been avoiding for ten years. That explosion had driven them straight to the heart of her darkest secret.

“Dawn,” he read aloud when she didn’t immediately answer him. “I remember that you said you liked that name back when we’d fantasized about our future children. Wasn’t it your grandmother’s name?”

“My great-grandmother,” was all she could say.

When she looked at River, she could see the change in him. Every muscle in his body was tensed, his jaw set like stone as he looked down at Dawn’s tombstone. A million different things started running through her mind. Reasons. Explanations. And yet, she couldn’t even think of where to start.

His hands left her body then, leaving cold spots on her skin. She sat up, longing for his support now when she needed it the most. He still didn’t look at her. She was certain nothing—not even the screaming and sirens in the distance—could tear his attention away from the tiny marble plaque.

“Tell me.”

Morgan sat up straight, the tears starting to roll down her face as she began the story that was so long overdue. “That is where my father buried the urn that holds the ashes of my daughter. Our daughter.”