Lance arched an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.
“So what’s the plan with Catherine? Are we really just going to leave her and head back to Cabinda?” Aaron asked carefully.
If Lance decided to drop everything and go back to Cabinda now, Belinda wouldn’t force him to keep digging. She’d probably just confront him directly. Maybe he could dodge this mess altogether.
Lance looked over, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “Is that what you think? Did you deliver that gift to Davis like I asked?”
The last time, he barely made it out from Cabinda with no phone, but as luck would have it, he ran into Davis at the airport. Davis had some people with him and offered to help, which was the only way Lance managed to get to the hospital in time.
Aaron nodded. “I delivered it. But Geoffrey refused it. He said he’d rather talk to you when you have time; he has a favor to ask.”
“Then we should set up a meeting. There are some things that need to come out, sooner or later.”
Lance tapped his chin, his expression impossible to read.
That afternoon, Lance met Davis for tea in a private room at the teahouse.
“Lance, we haven’t seen each other that many times, but I consider us close enough to skip the formalities,” Davis said, getting straight to the point. He looked like he’d been wanting to have this conversation for a while.
“I’m sure about it now. My daughter, the one who disappeared after she was born? She wasn’t stillborn. She was taken. And the one who took her… it was this woman.” He slid a photo across the table to Lance. “I’ve pieced together where my daughter was taken, where she is now, but I’m still wondering about something. That woman, Catherine—who is she to all of this?”
Lance settled back in his bamboo chair and gave the photo a quick glance. The picture was old—over twenty years ago—but he recognized the young woman instantly. She used to run the orphanage.
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