"I know," Corinne acknowledged softly. "I'm sorry for what all of you went through too."
"Lottie cried for weeks after you disappeared. She'll be so happy to learn that you're home again."
Corinne smiled at the thought of reuniting with her little sister. Although both were born with the Breedmate birthmark, she and Charlotte were not blood related. Nevertheless, they'd been fiercely devoted to each other - perhaps all the more so, having been born into neglect and abandonment as infants, only to become family as wards of the Bishops.
"Is she here, Mother?"
"Oh, no, darling. Charlotte has her own Darkhaven in London with her mate and their two sons. In fact, her youngest and his Breedmate just celebrated the birth of their first son a few weeks ago."
Corinne felt a bittersweet jolt in her core. Five years Corinne's junior, Lottie had been a gawky adolescent at the time of Corinne's abduction. Now she was grown up with a mate and adult children of her own. Corinne should have been happy for her sister; deep down, she was. But the news only drove the point more sharply that time had marched on while Corinne was gone.
Far more painful was the reminder of all the things she had lost - the precious things that had been taken from her - while Dragos held her imprisoned. Now that she was here, back in her parents' home, she could put all of her energy into reclaiming the pieces of her own broken life.
"I didn't see Sebastian when we came in earlier," she said, recalling the handsome, studious Breed youth who'd been so patient with his adopted sisters. He'd been twenty the year Corinne was abducted. Now he was probably leader of his own Darkhaven, with a beautiful Breedmate and half a dozen sons of his own as well.
The long silence that met her question made Corinne draw in an anxious breath. Regina Bishop's mouth quivered. "Of course, you wouldn't know. We lost Sebastian to Bloodlust more than forty years ago now."
Corinne closed her eyes. "Oh, God. Not our sweet Sebastian."
"I know, darling." Her mother's voice was small, still rife with grief over her son all these decades later. "Sebastian had changed in the years after you went missing. We knew he was struggling, that his thirst was consuming him, but he withdrew from us. He tried to hide his problems from us, wouldn't accept help. He'd been on a terrible killing spree in the city that night. When he came home, he was covered in blood. None of us could reach him. He was Rogue by then, too far gone to be saved. And he knew it. Sebastian was always so perceptive, so smart and sensitive. He locked himself in your father's study. We heard the gunshot not even a moment later."
"I'm so sorry." Corinne hugged her, feeling the anguish as the other woman stifled a tight sob. "It must have been awful."
"It was." Sorrowful eyes met her gaze as she withdrew from her mother's embrace. "Until you've lost a child - and until tonight, I'd thought I'd lost two - no one can imagine what it's like to feel such hollowness inside."
Corinne said nothing, unsure how to respond. She bore her own emptiness, endured her own loss, even now. It was that loss that had brought her home, even more so than her own selfish needs for comfort and the sheltering arms of her family.
"You must recognize this room, don't you?" her mother asked abruptly, wiping at the corners of her eyes.
Halfheartedly but glad for the momentary distraction, Corinne took in her surroundings. Her glance traveled over the elegant dark cherry sleigh bed and the antique chest and dresser that still looked so familiar to her, despite all these years. The linens and window treatments were different. So were the walls, no longer swathed in yards of shimmering peach silk but painted a soothing matte shade of dove gray. "This used to be my bedroom."
"It still is," Regina replied, a forced brightness in her voice. "We'll put it back exactly as it was before, if that's what you'd like. We can start tomorrow, darling. I'll take you shopping for a new wardrobe in the morning, and we can make an appointment with my decorator to refurnish the whole room, top to bottom. We'll set everything back to rights and it will seem as though you've never been gone a day. Everything can be made exactly the same as it was before, Corinne. You'll see."
Corinne was hardly aware she was shaking her head until she noticed her mother's crestfallen expression. "Nothing can ever be the same. It's all changed now."
"We'll fix it, darling." Her mother nodded as if her certainty alone would make it so.
"You're home now, and that's the most important thing. None of the rest matters."
"Yes," Corinne murmured. "It does matter. Things happened to me while I was gone. Terrible things that I need to tell you about. You and Daddy both ..."
She hadn't meant to blurt it out like this. Her intent had been to sit both her parents down together and gently walk them through the circumstances of her captivity as best she could. Now she knew there would be no graceful way to convey the truth, as she watched dread creep into Regina Bishop's pretty face.
The two of them could have passed as sisters in public, both of them youthful looking, the process of aging halted near thirty years old. It was the same for all Breedmates, due to their genetic anomalies and the life-giving power found in a Breed male's blood. Corinne was gone seventy-plus years, but she'd hardly aged. She'd been kept alive, deliberately kept young and viable because that's where her value had been to her captor.
Regina Bishop saw this truth now; Corinne watched the realization dawn, as though her mother hadn't really looked at her closely until that very moment. "Tell me," she whispered.
"Tell me what happened to you, Corinne. Why would anyone want to hurt you?"