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and she gave her name as Harper McFadden. That’s what brought this whole thing up with you today, right?”
    She swallowed thickly. He found himself touching her again, cupping the side of her head, moving his fingertips along the column of her neck. He couldn’t stand seeing her so discombobulated and knowing the reason why was him.
    “One of my reporters—Burt Chavis—came to me today. He’s been wanting to do a story on you, preferably one on the insider trading scandal and Clint Jefferies. He wanted my permission as his editor to pursue it.”
    He stiffened. “Did you give it to him?”
    “Don’t look at me like that, Jacob,” she said. Despite his prickle of annoyance at being told that a local reporter was indeed intent on reanimating his ghosts, he was glad to see the familiar flash of fire melt Harper’s shocked expression. “I told him that what he had was unsubstantiated and weak. I also told him that I’d never use my relationship with you to gather insider information.”
    He winced. “All right. Fair enough. Who do you think did call the adoption offices in West Virginia, then?”
    “That’s what I started to say—Burt Chavis came to me with some information that was weakly relevant to a story, and Ruth Dannen, our features editor, overheard him broaching the topic with me. I think they might have teamed up after Burt left my office today. Ruth wasn’t very happy when I shut her out of the conversation. She accused me of protecting you because I’m sleeping with you.”
    “So you think Ruth could have called the adoption offices, asking about my case and pretending to be you?”
    “I think there’s a pretty good chance, yes. One thing is for certain: It
wasn’t
me,” Harper said so steadfastly he believed her. Her gaze flickered over his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll confront Ruth about it. And as long as your adoption records are kept sealed tight, I honestly don’t think that story has legs to run on.”
    “So how did you connect Jake Tharp to me? I thought that with time and your dad’s hypnosis, you’d completely forgotten me. And back then—when we were kids—you never answered my letters—”
    He started in shock when he felt a violent shudder go through her.
    “
Oh my God
,” she exclaimed, her hand covering her mouth. For a second, he thought she was going to be sick.
    “Harper, it’s going to be okay—” he began, alarmed. She threw herself at him, cutting him off, her arms encircling him. Emotion swelled in him. She hugged him so tight. It was the way she used to hug Jake Tharp.
    The sweet, desperate way she used to hug
him
.
    “I never got them. I never got any letters, Jake. Never. Oh my God,” she repeated, her hands running anxiously over his back and shoulders. She leaned her head back and abruptly shoved at his chest. He gaped in bewilderment at her blazing expression. “I’m so
mad
at you! How can you
think
I wouldn’t remember Jake Tharp?”
    “I just thought . . . maybe it all didn’t mean to you what it did to me. You had a family who adored you, a safe home.” She moaned, shaking her head furiously, but he continued to try to make her understand. “And when you told me about your dad treating your phobias and panic attacks with hypnosis, I thought maybe he’d encouraged you to forget the whole trauma . . . and Jake. I thought
I
was forgotten with all the rest of it.”
    “I would
never
forget you,” she nearly shouted, touching his shoulders and then his hair. “After they told me you were dead, your memory haunted me even more. I felt like you were dead because of
me
. It was all my fault. If I hadn’t begged you to risk your life and save me, you’d still be alive. The world just felt like this big, horrible, unsafe place when I thought you were dead . . . knowing it was my responsibility that you
were
.”
    “No, Harper, listen to me,” he insisted, grabbing one of her anxiously moving hands. He worried she was about to spiral