Please, Kate, please don’t be making the biggest mistake of your life.

Then suddenly she saw him, materializing out of the crowd, as if from nowhere.

Their gazes met. He stood a short distance away, as if letting her grow accustomed to the sight, a familiar yet uncertain smile. He was wearing khakis, an open-necked blue shirt, the ubiquitous navy blazer. His hair was shorter, almost shaved. The tan was gone. His face was leaner than she’d ever seen it. It was like some low-budget sci-fi movie-someone inhabiting someone else’s body. A jogger crossed in front of them. Kate’s every nerve stood on edge.

“Hello, pumpkin.”

He didn’t make a move to hug her. If he had, Kate didn’t know what she would do. She just looked at him-her eyes drawn to every familiar feature. There was a part of her that wanted to put her face against his chest and her arms around him as she had a thousand times. There was another part that wanted to tear into him with anger. So she just squinted into the faraway regions of his eyes.

“Who are you…Daddy?”

“Who am I? What do you mean, pumpkin? I’m your father, Kate. Nothing that’s happened can change that.”

Kate shook her head. “I’m not sure I know anymore.”

He smiled fondly. “You remember how I took you down the mountain at Snowmass that first time? How you followed right in my tracks? And how it was me you came to when you got dumped by that jerk from BU, that actor? How I hugged you and wiped the tears out of your eyes-”

“I don’t have any tears now, Dad… I asked you who you are. What’s our real name? It isn’t Raab. I know that now. What’s the truth about our family? Rosa -where was she really from? It wasn’t Spain.”

“Who’s been talking to you, Kate? Whoever’s been telling you these things is lying.” He reached out a hand to her.

“Stop!” She backed away. “Just stop, please… I know the truth. I know, Daddy. How long you’ve been working for them. Mercado. How it was that the FBI found out about you. Who turned you in.” She waited for him to say something, anything, to deny it, but he just kept staring at her. “Who was it who shot up our house that night? Were you even protecting us, Dad? Were you even afraid?”

“I was always protecting you, pumpkin,” he said with a nod. “I’m the person who helped nurse you back when you got sick. I was the one there in the hospital when you opened your eyes. You know that, Kate. Who was the first person you saw? The rest, what does it matter? Anything else is just a lie.”

“No.” Kate’s blood surged with rage. “It does matter, Dad. It’s all that matters. You want to see what a lie looks like, I’ll show you.”

She reached into her bag and came out with something and placed it in his hand. It was the snapshot of him and his brother in front of the gate in Carmenes.

“Look at this, Daddy. This is a lie. This is the lie you’ve been telling your whole life, you bastard.”

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

He didn’t show surprise or even flinch. He only stared at the photo with some remembrance, as if he’d come upon something intimate and valued that had been lost for a long time. When he looked back at Kate, the edge of his mouth curled into a resigned smile.

“Where did you get this, Kate?”

“Goddamn you, Daddy, we trusted you,” Kate said, unable to control the raging inside her. “Em, Justin, Mom…We trusted you with our lives. More than our lives, Dad-we trusted you with who we are.”

He flicked the photo with his thumb. “I asked you where you got this, Kate.”

“What does it matter? I want to hear it from your lips. That’s why I’m here. I want to hear you tell me that everything was a lie. What you did. Who you were. Who we were.”

A few passersby turned and stared, but Kate kept on, her eyes flooding with tears. “What about Greg, Dad? Was that all part of the plan, too? Was that a Sephardic thing, Dad, or just business? Fraternidad!”

He reached out, but Kate just drew away. He had become something vile.

“I know! I know he’s your brother. I know about your father and who he was. I know you set the whole thing up-your arrest, the trial, getting into the program. I know what you’re trying to do.”

He just stood there looking at her, shielding his eyes against the sun.

“You killed that woman, didn’t you? Margaret Seymour. You killed my mother-your own wife! That woman in Buffalo. It’s all true. All of it, isn’t it? What the hell kind of monster are you?”

He blinked. Suddenly it was as though something familiar shifted. There was a steeliness to his eyes, an icy blankness in his stare. “Where is he, sweetheart?”

“Where is who?”

His voice was dull, almost businesslike. He reached for her. “You know who I mean.”

And then it was as if the person she’d known her whole life was no longer standing there.

Kate pulled away. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. I don’t even know what our real name is. Did you bring Greg into my life, you bastard? To do what? Make my life a lie as well? Tell me something, Dad. How long”-she met his hollow gaze-“how long did my mother know?”

He shrugged. “I know you’ve seen him, Kate. It’s he who’s poisoning you. He who’s telling you lies. I want you to come with me. I thought about what you said. We’ll both go to the FBI. They’ll tell you the same thing.” This time he reached out and grabbed her. It made her cringe, and Kate wrestled her arm away.

“No!” She took a step back. “I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to lure him with me. Goddamn you, Daddy, he’s your brother. What are you going to do, kill him, too?”

Her father went to touch her, but then he stopped. His gaze strangely shifted. Kate felt the eeriest chill come over her.

He’d seen something.

“What are you staring at?” she asked, the shiver rippling down her spine.

“Nothing.” His gaze returned to her. A little half smile curled on his lips.

There was something creepy and almost impersonal in his eyes. Her heart was pounding. Her mind went to the gun in her bag. She glanced around for the cops. She knew she had to get out of here. This was her father! Suddenly Kate felt scared for her life.

“I need to go now, Daddy.”

He took a step after her. “Why are you protecting him, Kate? He’s nothing to you.”

“I’m not protecting anyone. You’ve got to turn yourself in. I can’t help you anymore.”

Kate backed into a woman, knocking a package out of her arms. “Hey!” She started to run along the Promenade. Her father followed for a few steps, people crisscrossing in his path.

“I’m going to find him, Kate! You’re not the only way.”

She picked up her pace, knifing through the strollers. All she knew was that she had to get out of there. At the Montague Street entrance, she glanced back. He had stopped. Her heart was racing. She caught a glimpse of him through the crowd.

He raised his hand. He had the most impassive smile on his face.

He gave her a one-fingered wave.

Kate ran out of the park, glancing back once or twice on Montague Street. Past a few shops and cafés. She edged through the pedestrians. Kate got a block or two away and looked behind. He wasn’t following her. Thank God…

She found herself in front of a store window, a Starbucks, leaning her palm on the glass to rest, sucking air back into her lungs.

She had no idea where to go.

She couldn’t go home. Greg was there. And she couldn’t go back to Abbie’s. Not any longer. She was petrified of getting Em and Justin any more deeply involved.

Kate’s gaze slowly fell upon her own mixed-up reflection in the glass.

She saw what he’d been staring at.

Her pendants. When her father jostled her they must have come out.