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My entire life I’ve lived with shadows lurking behind what otherwise appears like the perfect family. My mother often disappears into her bedroom for days at a time because her life becomes too much to deal with. I never understood it. I know there are family secrets. I hear the whispers and innuendos. But no one wants me to know the truth.

The thing is: I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m tired of not being told. I must seek the answers and discoveries that will change my life and the relationship I have with my family, possibly forever. I soon discover that there is another daughter. The betrayal I feel from having to learn that on my own sends me running off to find her, no matter how much my parents, and Max, discourage me. I’m tired of all the lies. I can’t do it anymore, and I won’t.

My best friend since my early teens is Max Salazar. He’s my cousin by adoption, and best friend in the world, even if lately, he has been acting like anything but family. He is often in trouble so I’m always trying to bail him out. But this time, I get in way too far over my head and there’s only Max to turn to. Max, however, refuses to accept my comfort. How can I think about caring for someone who can’t even stand my touch?

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“I feel like all these characters are family. After reading the Sister Series it only seems fitting to read about the main characters daughters. Can't wait to read more of Leanne Davis's series.” --Lori, Goodreads Reviewer


“Awesome. Want to read more of the daughter series this author has been tops in keeping you interested in her plots.” –Lazor88200, Goodreads Reviewer


“Another heartfelt account of young people dealing with the hard knocks life deals out. I love the parallels drawn between the hardships of the parent's past and their children in the present. Very clever story telling.” –Susanna, Goodreads Reviewer


“I can't get enough of Davis writing. She got me from book 1 of Jessie story and I can't stop reading. The story keeps you going with suspense, dark side, tears, chills, laughing, sexy and love. Very emotional but love it. I never expected this story with Christina and Max.” -Tina, Goodreads Reviewer


“I love this series because it just doesn’t stop and make you wonder. It keeps going and gives you more. I like to know what happens after and this series does that for me. Love it!!” --Chrissie, Goodreads Reviewer



I shake my head. “Why do you do this? Why do you bloody yourself like this?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t know you’d be there.”

“That doesn’t change what you did! Or what you do. I thought… I thought you didn’t do this anymore.”

“I try to make sure it doesn’t get back to you guys.”

“So you still do it? Don’t you dare lie to me. This wasn’t just a fluke, was it?”

He drops his gaze and tugs his hand from mine to wrap his other hand around the wad of paper towels. I stare at his entwined hands and feel the loss from my own. He still, after all these years, and all our times together, hates my touch. “No. Not a fluke.”

I drop my hands to my lap. “I hate you doing this. Why? I just don’t understand why.”

“I like the power,” he mutters.

“There’s no power in pain. Just stupidity,” I snap as I rise up to my feet. His gaze follows me. I can feel his burning, black eyes digging into my skin. He can handle any insult in the world, but he hates it when I call him stupid.

For years after coming to live here, Max stuttered and struggled to even make a single, normal sentence. He underwent intense speech and occupational therapy. He’d come so far, but still rarely spoke to anyone outside of our family. He mostly only talked to me. But I didn’t totally know him or understand him either. Even after all these years, and all the days I invested in trying to simply talk to Max. I’ve tried so hard to get to know Max, and still I realize that I don’t know him.

But sometimes, his actions are just so damn pointless.

I feel the barest touch on my knuckle. I glance down as if the appendage didn’t belong to me. There is Max’s index fingertip on my knuckle. I stare in wonder at the unusual sight of his dark skin against my pale skin. I want to clasp his hand in mine. I want to lean on my knees and wrap my arms around him and press my head against his chest and have him reassure me. Because when he does those things, that crazy fighting, it really scares me. I worry about what could and might still happen to him if he continues putting himself in those situations. And what if he ends up getting really hurt? I cannot handle it. He is part of my everyday life. The best part on most days. But it’s so hard to accept that he might get hurt; especially when the cause would be his own stupidity.

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