Glaring and glowering, I stomped back towards my dad. A barrage of emotions hurtled through me—fear, anger, suspicion—and I hoped to God this wasn't some kind of sick ploy he designed to bend me to his will.

Through narrowed eyes, I demanded, "When did you find out?"

"A few months ago," he answered calmly. "Right before Andrea and I got married."

Damn, props to Andrea. She was either a very skilled gold digger—or a very lucky one—to nab herself a rich man who was about to die.

In churlish tones, I asked, "What's the diagnosis?"

Quite suddenly and unexpectedly, my dad raised his hands to undo the top buttons of his dress shirt. My eyebrows shot up with concern. He pulled aside the collar to reveal a small but very noticeable lump sitting on the side of his neck.

"Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma cancer. Stage four."

My eyes rounded out in shock. "Shit."

A chill ran through my veins. That lump looked real as fuck. I didn't know much about this type of cancer, but it sounded pretty damn serious. I assumed not even a piece of shit like my sperm donor would have the gall to lie about something this life-threatening.

I frowned. On second thought, I didn't trust the bastard any further than I could toss him. Like father, like daughter, I, too, wanted to see motherfucking receipts.

"I don't believe you. Show me your medical diagnosis forms."

He didn't hesitate to reply, "They're back in DC, but I can have Andrea email copies to you later this evening."

Was he really going to have her email those forms to me?

My chest tightened. This shit was getting intense. I thought of the twins. "Have you told Bea and Trick about... your condition... yet?"

"Not yet, but I will. Until then, please don't say anything to them."

I consented. "I understand, but I hope you'll tell them soon."

I hated the idea of keeping a secret like this from Bea and Trick, but I also felt my siblings deserved to hear news of this magnitude from our dad.

I pressed him, "When are you planning to tell them?"

He grimaced. "Don't worry, I won't make them wait long."

My dad didn't answer my question, so I asked again, "When?"

"In a week or two. I need to touch base with Madeline first."

I frowned at the mention of his ex's name. "About what?"

"About withdrawing the twins from Ashton Wellesley. If Madeline agrees to my proposal, then I'd like Bethany and Patrick to choose whether they want to come to DC with us or go back to Houston and live with their mother."

The fuck?

My mouth parted in astonishment. I was shocked that he was planning to withdraw Bea and Trick from the academy, too. My brain began to churn.

Could it be possible that my dad wasn't trying to remove me from Ashton Wellesley solely because of Zac?

Did he want me to move because of his cancer?

My entire reality felt as though it was being warped and distorted. Before Lily swept into town on her fucking broomstick, I'd happily cast my dad as the main villain in my life. Chaotic emotions clenched inside me like a vice—taut, tight, and so very draining—as I tried to make sense of it all. I was supposed to hate the man. All he ever did was ignore me, disappoint me, hurt me. Hell, my dad was probably the one who put my boyfriend's dad behind bars. I'd been ready to walk away and turn my back on the fucker forever.

Man, what a difference six letters can make across the span of mere minutes.

Cancer.

A vexing thought tugged on my conscience: Villains weren't supposed to get cancer, let alone die from it. This single notion forced me to take a step back from the years-long hatred and anger I harbored towards my dad. I felt lost, confused, and, for the first time in my sixteen years, I didn't know how to maneuver my way around the obstacles set before me.

My dad stared at me intently. I gazed back with a despondent gaze. I found myself wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt. Honestly, the man looked as though he had some lost weight, and it seemed a lifetime's worth of stress and strain had suddenly manifested itself on his face overnight. His blonde hair appeared to be much thinner, and the lines and wrinkles across his face made him appear older, frailer.

Yet, oddly, more human.

Despite everything he intended to do to ruin my life, my heart went out to the poor bastard. Terminal cancer wasn't something I'd wish upon my worst enemy. I wouldn't even wish it on Lily, and I despised that fucking bitch.

A moment of dead air and awkward silence passed between us.

My dad cleared his throat and circled back to the topic we'd been discussing earlier. "At any rate, Cate, you should start making preparations for DC. The three of you will be withdrawing from Ashton Wellesley at the end of this semester."

He spoke as though his deteriorating health was no longer the most pressing issue at hand.

I hesitated. "So... we're not going to talk about it, then?"

"Talk about what, Cate?"

I couldn't quite bring myself to say the C-word out loud. "The fact that... you might not be around... for long?"

My dad sighed. "What is there to talk about? Everyone dies. Eventually."

I couldn't believe how he could approach his own mortality with such apathy.

What the fuck was wrong with the man?

How could he not fear death?

"Are you getting treatment right now? Chemo? Radiation?"

"Yes, I am, but the prognosis, as I mentioned earlier, isn't very optimistic."

My legs began to feel weak. Wobbly.

If my dad died, then would that officially make me... an orphan?

I needed to sit down.

For once, my dad actually picked up on my distress. He pulled up a chair for me from the hallway. I slumped into it listlessly.

"If you've only got a year left to live, tops," I whispered brokenly, "then why does any of this matter anymore? Why do I have to go to DC? Why are you trying to separate me from Zac? And why, for fuck's sake, do you want me to get along with Lily so badly?"

"Those are all very good questions that, unfortunately, I can't answer for you, Cate. Not right now, anyway."

I scowled deeply. Annoyance pricked at me. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he explained cryptically, "there's a method to my madness. Believe me when I say that every one of my decisions has been calculated, weighed, and deliberated with the utmost care."

"You sure about that?" I echoed in a hollow tones.

My dad sighed. "I understand we haven't seen eye to eye as of late, but, I assure you, my intentions are good."

"I don't know if I can believe you."

"In regards to your accusations relating to my involvement in Timothy Mazur's sentencing—know that I've always stood on the right side of the law. There's nothing that pleases me more than to see justice served. Trust me in this, Cate, and be smart. Stay out of the line of fire. Let adults handle adult matters. And, please, do mind your language. That Mazur boy has turned you into a foul-mouthed heathen."

My dad wanted me to believe in him blindly, stupidly. This didn't sit well with me at all. The man might be dying of cancer, but there was nothing wrong with his intellect or his vocal chords. He was perfectly capable of telling me the truth. I was tired of being brushed aside and talked over. I wanted answers. Real answers that, it seemed, he was intentionally withholding from me.

I purposely dropped a few more F-bombs to show him that I wasn't buying his law and order crap. "Did you fucking do it, then? Did you conspire with Mr. Sinclair to fuck over Zac's dad? I bet Mr. Mazur is innocent."

"I don't want to discuss this with you any further," my dad muttered grimly.

Fleetingly, I wondered if my dad was being so tight-lipped simply because he was an ass. Or if there was a legit, sensitive, or classified reason relating to Mr. Mazur's case that the FBI wouldn't allow him to disclose to regular civilians like me. I decided to switch tactics and grill my dad about something that was closer to home, a topic that I had every right to confront him on.

"What about those photos of Mamma you handed over to Lily?"

He blinked at me, appearing genuinely perplexed. "I don't know what you're talking about, Cate. What photos? Why would I give Lily photos of your mother?"

I glared. "You know, the ones from the day police found her in the hotel. I thought those photos were supposed to be sealed, but Lily said that you helped her bypass authorities to get them."

My dad frowned and shook his head. "She's mistaken, then. I did no such thing."

His tone suggested that there was nothing left to say about this matter even though I was nowhere done with my line of questioning. I decided to try one last time to extract some morsels of information from yet another angle. Clearly, he refused to talk about Mr. Mazur. Maybe he would be more willing to talk about himself.

I gave it a shot. "Fine. At least, tell me this—how can you be so calm about everything? Do you really want to spend your last few months on earth slaving away for the Bureau and shuttling back and forth between Wellesley and DC? I don't understand how you can proceed with business as usual. Given the circumstances."

My dad's mouth quirked into a faint smile. "That's why I intend to sell all of our properties in Wellesley and move us to DC. I'd like for us to spend more time together. As a family."

My expression balked. My heart longed for his words to be true, but I simply didn't buy it. I couldn't shake the feeling that my dad was hiding something else up his sleeve. Something big. Everything that came out of his mouth was such an anomaly. I didn't know what was real or fake anymore. Maybe his cancer was real, maybe his desire for all of us to ditch Wellesley was real, but—

Wanting to spend time together as a family?

Ha! That shit reeked of hypocrisy.

In a perfect world, truth would set us free, love would conquer all, Zac would find justice for his dad, and I'd be able to make peace with mine.

But I didn't live in a perfect world.

My heart broke for my dad even while the fractures and cracks inside me filled with distrust. Honestly, he was even more of a stranger to me now than before, but, fuck it, if this didn't light a fire under my ass to get know him inside and out. To uncover all of his secrets one by one—for Zac's sake and my own—before our time ran out.

So desperately, I wanted to believe that, even in an imperfect world, the truth could set us free. That love could conquer all. That Zac could find justice for his dad.

That my dad and I might somehow find a way to see eye to eye before cancer stole him away from me.