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Kenzie’s face went white, and she slowly slipped to the floor, as though her legs would not hold her one more second. “What do you mean?”
Myles did not want to have this conversation. But she had to know. Or she’d up and leave and be in more danger than ever before.
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When Kenzie was growing up in Mac and Nana’s home, Nana loved to cook for the three of them. Each evening meal was a special event, with delicious food and close conversation around the dining-room table. Those nights provided the stability that Kenzie craved after her parents’ deaths. At the age of five she had struggled to understand, to accept what was really happening. Her father, Mackenzie Thorn II, was an avid pilot. He and her mother, Grace, loved to fly together, traveling the country.
It had only taken one plane crash to leave her an orphan. And in Kenzie’s childhood mind, it only took two of her grandmother’s meals to know that she wouldn’t have to be alone again. Mac and Nana took her into their home and loved her as their own daughter through grade school, high school, college and beyond.
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