Whenever Dad couldn't sleep, he would write in the journals until exhaustion eventually forced him to go to bed.

The library was the first place I looked for him because I knew that he would be there, sitting behind his desk with a journal open in front of him and a pen clutched tightly in his hand. But it wasn't like I imagined it. Dad sat behind his desk, yes, but he was staring down at something instead of writing.

For a moment Dad seemed to panic when he glanced up and saw me hovering in the doorway.

"Ariana." He pushed something into the journal and slammed it shut before he gathered the pages that were scattered across his desk into a pile and then pushed them into a drawer.

"I thought you were sleeping," he muttered as he straightened.

"I can't sleep." I licked my lips. "C-can we talk?"

"Is it important?"

I blinked at him, completely taken aback by his question. Dad has never turned one of us away when we wanted to talk whether it was something silly or not. I knew that he was mad at me but I never expected him to turn me away.

Swallowing, I turned. "No," I whispered. "It's not important."

"Ariana," he called, making me pause. "I'm sorry. I didn't. . .I'm just. . ." Dad muttered something under his breath. "It's late and I'm tired. If it's not important, can we talk about it tomorrow instead?"

I nodded and left the room without a word. After drinking some water from the kitchen, I headed back to my bedroom but lingered in front of the door for a few seconds before I walked down the hall towards Eva's room.

"Eva?" I called softly after I opened the door.

My eyes darted around the room and locked onto the sleeping figure in the bed. I closed the door softly behind me after slipping into the room. Hurrying over to the bed, I slipped underneath the sheets and scooted closer to my sister.

She sighed when I wrapped an arm around her waist. "Don't you think that you're a little too old to crawl into my bed when we're about to have a thunderstorm?"

For a moment I was hit with a wave of rejection but it faded when I realized that she was only teasing me.

Eva opened her eyes and stared at me for a few seconds before she turned onto her back.

"Do you think that he's okay?" she whispered.

My eyes snapped open. "I didn't think that you cared enough about Lucas to be worried about him."

"I'm trying not to," she muttered, "but it's kind of hard not to think about him. I'm not completely heartless, you know."

"You just don't care enough to want him as a mate," I said.

Eva sighed and linked our fingers together on her stomach. "I'm not so sure about things anymore," she whispered. "A part of me wants what you have but the other part wants to protect myself from the pain you're feeling because of him. Having a mate is so fucking painful."

"But the happiness will outweigh the pain."

She was silent for a few minutes before she spoke again. "You're probably right but in our case it's different."

"Yeah."

"Lucas and I don't have a bond like the two of you, so my feelings aren't as strong as yours, but I kind of. . .miss him." Eva swallowed loudly. "Without realizing it I kind of got used to having him around even though he sometimes acted like an asshole."

I smiled. "He likes pissing you off because you lose your temper easily."

"We should hate him, shouldn't we?" she asked. "We shouldn't even be fucking thinking about him."

It was easier said than done. You could force yourself to think of something else but before you know it; your mind would already be focused on him again.

"I never thought that having a mate would be so fucking complicated. Dating was easier."

The tone of her voice made me giggle and before I knew it we were both laughing hysterically.

***

By the time we woke up the next morning, Dad had already left. I was a little disappointed but I figured that he wouldn't have left so early if it wasn't important.

Eva made herself some breakfast before she told me that Grandma asked her to stop by so she could help out with the pups.

After she left, I cleaned the kitchen and then made myself a small snack. With nothing else to do, I decided to do some reading until Dad returned so I could talk to him.

My eyes instantly darted over to the desk when I entered the library. I came to a halt and stared at the mess.

Journals lay scattered around on top of it, some open and some closed along with a few balls of crumbled papers.

I frowned as I made my way over to the desk. Dad clearly stayed up after I left him. Usually, I would leave things exactly the way he left them but I was too curious after his reaction last night to leave it.

My stomach twisted with unease as I walked around the desk and took a seat. For a moment, I stared at the empty glass and whiskey bottle. So he'd been drinking. . .

Was he drinking because of me?

Giving my head a little shake, I reached for the crumbled paper. Once the papers were thrown away, I reached for the first journal.

"If it's about your history then why did he forbid you from reading them?"

Lucas's question flashed through my mind as I stared at it. My fingertips brushed the leather cover as I debated my options. I had never wanted to read a journal as badly as I wanted too at the moment, but I pushed the curiosity aside and listed all the reasons why I needed to respect his privacy.

I stacked the journals on one end of the desk and then reached for the papers. My elbow knocked against the journals. I sucked in a breath when something sharp dug into my skin for a second. Frowning, I inspected my arm but found no cut. I glanced at the journal only to pause when I spotted something peeking out from between the pages.

It could be something important.

Licking my lips, I reached for it.

The air got locked in my throat and everything around me faded as I stared at the photograph in my hand. It was not struggle to recognize the couple in the photo.

With a beating heart and dread settling in my stomach, I pulled the journals closer and leaved through the pages to search for more photos. By the time I had gone through all of them I had found six photos all in different sizes.

I picked the photos up and carefully studied each and everyone of them.

There were two photos of Mom and Dad. Two photos of Mom with the other man and two more with all three of them. Mom looked happier in the photos of them all together than I ever remembered her looking while she was still alive.

My eyes darted over to the shelf of journals. Were there more pictures hidden in them? Was that why Dad didn't want us to read it?

I stared down at the photos again and frowned.

When Lucas and I showed up at the garage after our car broke down Ethan had called me Lara—Mom's name—when he saw me.

I hadn't thought much of it because I knew that there were a lot of people who had the same names.

Apparently Ethan knew Mom very well based on the photos, and Dad knew about them too.

A door slammed shut, making me jerk in fright. I jumped to my feet an hurriedly gathered the photos but it was too late because in the next second the library door opened.