CHAPTER 127: MARY WAS HERE

"Babe..." Irene called from the table. She glanced over at him. "You will give yourself a headache. I can actually see the smoke coming out of your ears." She set a place mat down.

Evans forced a smile, but it wouldn’t reach his eyes. "It’s just..." He rubbed his temple. "All this time. Mary was here. She had a daughter." Saying it aloud made the possibility sound both smaller and more terrifying — suddenly very real, no longer the neat little file he could shove into a drawer.

Irene crossed the room and placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension coil there. "Have you seen her?" she asked, quietly.

"No." Evans answered after a breath. "Mike says she isn’t living with Ivy. I asked him to keep a tab on her; he thinks she’ll lead us to her mother." He hated the careful phrasing—keep a tab—because it made the whole business sound like a game of surveillance rather than a reckoning with the past.

He pressed his thumb down on the rim of the glass.

Irene’s brow folded. She kissed him on the cheek. "Why don’t you just tell the girl who you are?" she asked, and there it was: the tidy moral directness she offered so easily. To Irene, the truth was often the gentlest path, even when it hurt.

"And say what?" He turned, leaning his hip against the counter so he could see her properly. "I’m your uncle? Your mother was disowned by our family because she wouldn’t marry who your grandfather chose for her and instead chose to marry your father. It won’t work. It’s better her mother tells her herself."

He said the last part with an ache; he could already picture the fallout, the way Ivy’s world would tilt if a man from a family like theirs swept in and declared kinship.

Irene studied him for a long moment. "Who said anything about sweeping in?" she murmured. "You don’t have to barge into her life. You can do this gradually. If she’s your niece, she deserves the choice to accept you."

"Okay," he said finally. "No grand gestures. No announcements. Mike keeps watching, and I’ll keep my distance for now. I’ll let things unfold until I’m sure it’s the right time. I guess I am just going to sit back and let her marry Winn on Saturday."

"Do you want to make the same mistake your father made with her?" Irene asked quietly. She stood with her hip against the counter, her eyes steady on him.

Evans exhaled through his nose, his jaw working. "No... but come on! Winn? He’s an asshole. You said so yourself!" He waved his hand for emphasis, frustration bleeding into the movement.

Winn had always been a sore spot—his arrogance, his recklessness, the way he treated Irene like something he owned still irked him even after all these years. Evans couldn’t stomach the idea of his niece, Mary’s daughter, falling for someone like that.

Irene rolled her eyes, the corner of her lips quirking in the faintest smirk. "And if she loves him?" she asked simply. "Will you tear them apart too?"

Evans turned away, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated groan. "I hate you sometimes," he muttered. "With your stupid wisdom."

"Your father is going to be so happy," Irene teased. "Imagine it—his long-lost daughter and granddaughter, found and brought back into the family fold. You’ll be the hero of the year."

Evans huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "It’s going to be my Christmas gift to him," he said, smirking. "Putting the family together again."

She smiled softly. "Okay, come on," she said, flicking his tie playfully. "Go take a shower and come down for dinner before I eat without you."

"Yes, boss." He saluted mockingly before leaning in, his hand sliding around her waist as he pressed a brief, tender kiss to her lips. It was meant to be quick, but the touch lingered, his thumb tracing the curve of her spine.

Just as he began to pull away, his phone buzzed against his thigh. He sighed, already expecting it to be work. "Hold that thought," he murmured, fishing the phone from his pocket. "Mike?"

"Sir," came the gruff voice on the other end. "I found Mary, but something’s wrong."

Evans straightened instantly, the shift in his posture so abrupt that Irene froze mid-step. "What?"

"I followed Ivy to St. Theresa’s Hospital. She’s with Mary right now, in the ER," Mike explained.

"What the fuck happened?" Evans barked.

"From what I was able to overhear," Mike continued, "Mary had a fall at the nursing home she was staying in."

"She has been in a nursing home?" A nursing home. All this time, his sister had been tucked away in some quiet place, hidden from the world—and from him. "No wonder we weren’t able to find her," he murmured, his throat constricting.

He turned sharply, grabbing his keys. "I’ll be there," he said into the phone. "Stay on Mary. I want updates until I get there. Every five minutes." He didn’t wait for a response before hanging up.

He looked back at Irene, his composure already fraying. His eyes glistened, but his jaw was locked tight, his emotions restrained in the iron cage of his discipline. "We found her," he whispered.

Irene stepped closer, cupping his cheek. "Go get your sis," she said gently, her thumb brushing over his skin. "Bring her home."

He nodded once, unable to trust his voice. And then, without another word, Evans bolted for the door. The screen door clattered against the frame as he sprinted into the night, the sound of his car engine roaring to life moments later. The tires screamed against the pavement, the city lights blurring.

******

The fluorescent lights of St. Theresa’s Hospital flickered faintly overhead. Ivy fingers trembled around the strap of her handbag, her mind spinning so fast it was all she could do to stay upright.

Every passing nurse, every orderly in scrubs made her flinch. She didn’t know who was real and who wasn’t. What if one of them was with the men? The man’s voice still echoed in her head. "My men are in St. Theresa’s right now."