She is a parasite, Arkin's voice hissed in my mind, sharp and cold as ice. She has been living your life, eating your food, and wearing your crown while you slept in the dirt. We should take it back.
'She is our sister,' Ryan countered, his voice deeper, rumbling like distant thunder. 'But she is a weak one. Our father is sick, Hannah. He is the alpha. Alphas do not just fall over in boardrooms. He needs his true blood.'
For once, the mutt is right, Arkin said, and I could almost feel the phantom sensation of a shrug in my mind. He is the only link you have left to what you actually are. If he dies, you are just a girl in an internet cafe with no shoes and a dead phone. Go to him.
'Go to him,' Ryan echoed. 'We agree. See the man who gave us life.'
It was the first time they hadn't been at each other's throats. The silence that followed their agreement was more deafening than their arguing. I spent the next two days in that cafe, nursing a single cup of black coffee and reading every article I could find. I learned about his favorite charities, his business rivals, and the way he spoke in interviews. He sounded firm but fair. He sounded like someone I wanted to know.
On the third morning, as the sun began to bleed through the grime of the windows, I knew I couldn't wait any longer. I took out the crumpled piece of paper Laura had tucked into my hand before I left the car days ago. I used the cafe's landline, my heart hammering against my ribs.
It rang once. Just once.
"Hello, this is Laura Brown. How may I help you?"
"Hey," I said, my voice sounding raspy and thin. "It's Hannah."
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "Hold on, let me transfer the call to Ms. Eleanor."
"No, no," I said quickly, leaning against the counter. "Can I talk to you instead, Aunt Laura?"
"Call me Laura, dear," she said, her tone softening with a pity that made me grit my teeth. "But I am sorry, I have strict instructions. Your call has been transferred to the Mistress."
Before I could protest, the line clicked and a series of electronic beeps hummed in my ear. Then, the calm, measured voice of my grandmother filled the line.
"Hannah," she said. There was no triumph in her voice, only a quiet relief. "I was hoping you would call."
"I saw the news," I said, skipping any pretense of a greeting. "I saw that Mr Leonardo khian is in the hospital. Why didn't you tell me he was sick?"
"It happened suddenly," Eleanor replied. "The doctors are baffled, but I know what it is. It is the same shadow that follows me. He needs to see you, Hannah. He needs to know the truth before it is too late."
"Where is he?" I asked.
"He is at the St. Jude Private Wing," she said. "But you cannot just walk in there. Where are you right now?"
I looked around the dingy cafe, at the stained carpet and the flickering monitors. I gave her the address of the internet cafe, my voice steady despite the way my knees felt like they were made of water.
"Stay right there," Eleanor commanded. "Laura will come pick you up in a few minutes. I would come myself, but I am currently heading out for a business meeting in the next city that I cannot postpone. It involves the stability of the company while your father is incapacitated."
"Fine," I said. "I'll be waiting."
When the call ended, I hung up the receiver and tried to smooth down my hair with my hands. I went to stand up, but a strange sensation hit my feet. I looked down and realized I was barefoot. I looked around the booth, confused, until I remembered the chaos of the last few days. I spotted my shoes tucked under the computer desk where I must have kicked them off in my exhaustion. I slid them on,
I walked outside and stood on the curb. The morning air was crisp, and for the first time in my life, the world didn't feel quite so large and empty. I had a destination.
A few minutes later, a sleek black Mercedes pulled up to the curb. The window rolled down, and Laura looked out at me, her expression unreadable.
"Get in, Hannah," she said. "We have a lot to do before you see him."
I climbed into the back seat, the leather cool and smelling of expensive cologne. As she pulled away from the curb and merged into the morning traffic, the silence in the car was heavy. I watched the city blur past the window, the motel and the internet cafe fading into the distance.
"Is he really dying?" I asked softly, watching the way Laura's hands gripped the steering wheel.
"He is fighting," Laura said, her eyes fixed on the road. "But some battles aren't fought with medicine, Hannah. Some battles are fought with the blood."
I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window. I was going to see my father. And I was going to have to face Leah.
Let her try something, Arkin growled, a low vibration in my skull. I've been waiting twenty years to bite back.