A chill ran through me.
“What do you mean?”
He swallowed.
“Twenty years ago, someone made sure I could never come home.”
Julian’s expression hardened.
“Lucas, we agreed—”
“I know what we agreed.”
My father looked at me.
Then he whispered:
“Your father didn’t abandon you, Grace.”
He pointed toward the locket.
“Your father was running from the people who wanted you dead.”
My blood went cold.
“Who?”
My father stared at Julian.
