Daughter of Deep Silence Read Online Free Page B

and paces across the room again.
    When he reaches the table, he grips the back of the empty chair, leaning on it. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about the
Persephone
being attacked.” He watches my reaction carefully. “Is it true?”
    I hold his eyes a moment before answering. “Yes, sir.”
    He presses his lips together and lets out a long breath. I stare down at the water in front of me, watching tiny ripples radiate against the glass from the sway of the yacht.
    “And the men—these attackers—they weren’t wearing any masks. You could identify them?”
    I nod.
    “So you, Senator Wells, and his son are the only witnesses to what happened. And for whatever reason the two of them seem intent on keeping quiet about it being an attack.” He pauses. “Which leaves you.”
    This time I don’t respond. What is there to say?
    He pulls out the chair, finally, and sits. For a long while, he considers me while I keep my attention focused on the glass of water. “Which means that if I ever want to find out the truth about what happened to my wife and daughter, I’ll need your help.”
    At this, I jerk my eyes up. “Me? What can I do?”
    “I don’t know,” he admits. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.”
    I shift, suddenly uncomfortable. I don’t like the idea that I’m the only thing standing between the world and the truth about the
Persephone
. It’s too much of a burden when I’m carrying enough already. I shake my head. “I don’t—”
    But he holds up a hand and I let the protest die on my lips. “I started to call the coast guard to give them the details of the rescue and let them know we were bringing you in so they could have someone there to pick you up.”
    He shakes his head slowly. “But then I thought about how you’re the last person who saw my baby alive. The last person to talk to her. You’re the only one who knows what those final moments were like for her.” His voice breaks and he glances away, his eyes glistening with tears. “You’re my last connection with her.”
    I pull my feet up to the edge of the chair, wrapping the robe tighter as I hug my knees to my chest. So that I take up the smallest amount of space possible.
    “I lost my family out there.” He chokes on a sob. My own throat tightens, my eyes burning as I swallow again and again. If I let the ache in my chest rise too far, it will drown me.
    “You know, we’re alike that way,” he adds, struggling to turn the sob into a laugh and failing. He presses his fingers to his eyes, taking measured breaths. “I don’t want to go home and face my daughter’s empty bedroom.”
    I shove the heel of my palm in my mouth, biting what’s left of the flesh in an attempt to stave off the tide of grief.
    He stands, walking across the room. Composing himself. “Did Libby ever tell you about Shepherd and Luis?” The change in subject is so abrupt that I blink, a few times, wondering whether I’ve misheard him. I nod slowly, confused about where this is going. Shepherd, his older brother, Luis, and Libby had practically grown up together. During our time adrift, there’d been nothing to do but talk and she’d told me everything about them.
    Especially about her and Shepherd falling in love.
    “Their parents worked for me,” Cecil explained. “Their mom was my personal assistant and their father ran my estates. But it was more than that—they were practically family. When their parents were killed in a car accident, Shepherd and Luis didn’t have any relatives in the US; the state planned to send them back to live with their extended family in Mexico, which didn’t seem fair to them.”
    He lifts a shoulder. “Or to us. Shepherd and Luis were like sons to Barbara and me. We couldn’t bear the thought of losing those two boys as well—how empty the house would seem. And so Barbara and I took them in and became their legal guardians. It wasn’t even a question for us. Those boys needed us,