Chapter 68

“I wanted to make sure Papa left everything you might need,” he murmured in that charming accent of his.

Abruptly what he’d said sank in, and desire vanished. In the days since I’d shed the thrall of the drugs, I’d resolutely kept the images of that day on the Amazon at bay. I also clamped down on my mental link to them. Having tried once and come up against a blank wall, I had no intention of doing that again. Survival took precedence—survival and revenge. Mourning would have to wait.

I’d succeeded fairly well until now, just like that, the walls I’d built to encase my emotions crumbled. “Pa-papa?” My voice cracked. That one simple word was all it took to bring the sharp, painful loss of my fathers and sibling freshly to mind.

“It’s what we call the grandfather who brought you up here,” he began casually, then stiffened as he studied the torment I could feel chasing across my face. “We call our other grandfather Pere.”