Page 15 of Moon Claimed

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Page 15 of Moon Claimed

Margaret tapped her cane. “Perhaps that was the demon he’d come to face. Maybe he had to explain everything to Hercules.”

“Do you remember who he went to see?” I leaned forward.

The son replied, “He visited all his friends, and Hercules Thana.”

I didn’t miss the way he’d separated Herc fromall his friends. “Did Murphy say anything about the meeting with Herc?”

“Never, but I could tell he was out of sorts after.”

“How many times did they see each other?”

“At least three occasions that I’m aware of.” He lowered his gaze. “Before the last time.”

Before Murphy died.

Margaret interrupted the heavy silence. “My grandson was an expert rock-climber.”

“Mum,” her son hissed.

She shot him a dry look. “I’m too old to not say what I want. Manners take time I don’t have.”

“What are you saying?” That sounded like an accusation.

Rhona walked into the garden. “Hey, I was looking for you. Everything okay?”

Wade said this family wasn’t fans of the Thanas, and that was obvious by the sudden stiffness in their postures.

They hadn’t liked Hercules, and Rhona was lumped in there too.

The talking was over.

“Thank you for telling me more about Murphy. I know it doesn’t mean much, but I wish I’d had the chance to know him better. To every account, he was an incredible person.”

“He was,” the brother said hoarsely.

“If you ever want to know more—maybe see pictures—just let us know,” the youngest sister surprised me by saying.

I smiled at her. “I’ll do that.”

The father approached as the family began to leave. He took my hands, leaning in. “No matter why Ragna and my son left the valley, I can assure you that Murphy intended to return to you both. He was leaving at 2:00 p.m. once their group returned from rock-climbing. There wasnothinghe wouldn’t have done for that beautiful, kind woman. And though he never told us of a child, I have no doubt he felt the same love for you, regardless of who your blood father might have been.”

This was all so fucked up. I’d hated Murphy for most of my life, then felt so hopeful after piecing together the timeline of his death. Now I just felt bitter that his death robbed my life of much-needed security. He’d left a blatant hole in this family’s lives—and mine.

I’d filled that hole with anger for twenty-one years.

I wanted Murphy to be my father again. Then Rhona would be head steward, and everything would be fine.

Mum would still be my mum.

Rhona lingered in my periphery, arms crossed. She was either oblivious to the Frey’s dislike or uncaring.

Probably the latter.

“Thank you.” I hugged the man’s middle tight and whispered, “Who went rock-climbing with Murphy and Hercules that day?”

He moved his mouth close to my ear. “One other steward.”

“Who?” I breathed.




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