"If it were my decision," Sophie said, lining her spine to just the curve of the porch swing, "there wouldn't be any matchmaking system."

Beside her, Keefe nodded, his face thoughtful. "It's not that I don't agree," he said, "but it does have some benefits. I mean, without it you could end up marrying a distant cousin."

Sophie wrinkled her nose. "Can't there be another system set in place just for that?"

Keefe laughed. "With you I'm sure it's possible. Although I doubt Bronte would be in favor."

"He'd probably veto the idea," Sophie agreed.

"So why are we talking about this?" Keefe, true to his nature, was tracing a pattern over the swing's seat. She wouldn't be surprised if he carved something into it just to annoy his father. "You can't even register — not without your biological parents."

"I'm not planning to," she admitted. "Even if I found the information I need."

"Really? You're not curious?"

She mulled it over, her thoughts racing faster than than the rapids on the beach. "I am," she decided. "But it's not like I'd even know any of my matches. I've been here for what, three years?"

"Less than that, probably." Keefe pulled his legs to his chest, turning to face her. Their knees touched, and one stray butterfly fluttered in her chest. "But you're bound to know someone." He grinned. "Who knows, maybe it'll be me?"

She laughed, giving him a good shove. "Fine chance of that."

"We'll see."

"Doubt it." Sophie gave him a once-over. "I can't register now, and even if Mr. Forkle somehow gives up who my biological dad is, I still wouldn't go for it."

Keefe nodded. Then his face twisted as he backpedaled her words through his mind. "Wait — only your dad? What about your biological mom?"

Sophie realized her slip and squeaked. "I meant both."

Keefe grabbed her hands, putting his empathy skills to use. "No — I don't think you did." Sophie didn't try to fight him. He'd have it figured out in a minute flat, maybe less.

"Keefe," Sophie begged. Realization had dawned on his face, and his lips mouthed Oralie.

She nodded, checking over her shoulder to ensure Lord Cassius wasn't eavesdropping on their conversation.

Keefe dropped her hands, his eyes widening. "Foster," he mumbled. "That's huge. I mean, I thought it would be a councilor, but . . ." His face paled. "How did I not —"

"Don't tell anyone," she pleaded.

Goosebumps freckled Keefe's arms, and he rubbed at them. "Of course not."

"Promise me."

"Promise."

Sophie studied him. Sometimes it baffled her that Keefe Sencen was her choice of company most often. But today it didn't.

Keefe didn't react in the way she worried Fitz would — racing to the matchmaking office and blurting her secrets only for the opportunity of a relationship. Her trust in her ex-boyfriend had dwindled significantly lately. But Keefe wasn't like that.

"You . . ." Keefe trailed off, struggling to meet her eyes. "You look a lot like her, actually."

Sophie started to panic. Was the resemblance too strong? Would people start accusing Oralie of being her mother?

"Whoa." Keefe ran a gentle hand along her arm. "Relax there, Foster — I meant that as a compliment."

Sophie's cheeks flushed, first from embarrassment and then from anger. "I hate her," she fumed, turning her eyes on Keefe. "I can't believe you would say I — I —"

She couldn't finish.

Keefe's eyes were hurt. He'd given her a real, solid compliment and she'd thrown it back at him. But she couldn't help herself.

"Sorry," she said, softening her voice for his sake. "I know you didn't mean that."

His eyes were pained. "I did mean it. You're pretty — just like her."

Sophie's emotions fought between embarrassment and unadulterated fury. Sure, Keefe was just trying to be nice. But the fact that she had anything in common with the woman who'd lied to her for years . . .

It was too painful.

"I don't look like her," Sophie insisted. "My eyes are brown, remember? And I never curl my hair. Or wear makeup . . ."

She was grasping at straws. The truth was, there were distinct similarities between her and Oralie. Their hair was the same shade, their lips the same shape, their noses even alike in slope. She hoped those details were trivial to the general population.

"I'm sorry," Keefe said, trying to hide the hurt in his voice. "I didn't mean to make you mad."

Sophie sighed, watching his face. Sometimes she forgot how broken he already was. "No," she said, reaching for his hand. "I'm sorry. You were being sincere."

He cracked a smile. "You sound surprised."

"You're the one always teasing me." She smiled. "I never know when you're serious."

"Well, I am now."

Sophie studied his face. His brow, much like hers, was creased in concentration. They both burst into laughter.

"Alright," Sophie said, scooting closer. "I told you one of my secrets. Your turn."

Keefe smirked. "Correction: I guessed your secret."

"Either way, you still have to tell me one of yours."

"What makes you think I have secrets?"

"The worry in your eyes."

"That, Foster," Keefe said, keeping his tone light, "is not worry." Smugness hinted on his lips. "Though I'm glad you're taking a liking to my eyes."

That earned him another shove.

"Save it for your fangirls," Sophie said.

"Pretty sure you are one. I mean, you're here all the time. And," he added, smirking, "I get that cute little worry crease every day. What says 'I'm madly in love with Keefe Sencen' more than that?"

Sophie shoved him again, then moved to the opposite swing so they wouldn't have to share.

"Hey!" Keefe complained.

"Tell me a secret and I might come back."

"Might?"

A sudden stomp pierced the air, and Ro marched onto the patio, her lips forming a sure complaint for the bruises lining her arms. Sophie fought a laugh, wondering what Keefe had done to keep her away so long.

Escaping Sandor wasn't that hard, and neither was Flori. But Ro?

Certainly not.

Ro paused when she found Sophie sitting beside a blushing Keefe. Her face suddenly filled with a grin. "Look who decided to visit," she said, smiling fondly at Keefe. "Anything you'd like to say about that red short of hers?"

Blushing, Sophie glanced down. Her tunic was more pink than red, but she still regretted wearing something so cheery and eye-catching.

"It's nice," Keefe mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

"Poor girl," Ro said to Sophie. "Not that I'm not routing for this whole Team-Foster Keefe thing, but I'm not sure he's worth it."

"Worth what?" Sophie shifted her gaze between Keefe and his bodyguard, which was hard since they were on either side of her.

"Confess," Ro said to Keefe, "or I'll do it for you."

"You wouldn't."

Ro flashed her sharp teeth. "Oh, I'm sure I would. You lost a bet last week."

Keefe groaned, covering his eyes. "Anything but this."

Ro laughed, a full-body one that shook her. It was filled with wicked glee.

"Uh, Keefe?" Sophie cut in quietly.

"Yeah?" He sounded anguished as he squinted at her.

"Should I go?"

He perked up. "Yes — please go —"

"Nice try, Hunkyhair." Ro took Sophie by the shoulders and guided her to sit directly beside him. "Better pucker those lips — 'cause he's got something he needs to say."

Alarmed by her choice of words, Sophie tried to stand, but Ro stopped her. "Believe me — he's harmless."

"Hey!"

Sophie laughed, despite herself. Keefe did have a habit of taking it personally when Ro said things similar to this.

"Oh — look at his eyes!" Ro clapped when Keefe focused in on Sophie's laugh. "They're little hearts."

"Shut up," he mumbled.

Sophie's heart picked up. She hated being teased about this. About Keefe liking her in a way he clearly didn't. And never would . . .

"Ten seconds," Ro warned Keefe.

Flustered, Keefe turned his gaze on Sophie. "Uh, Foster? You know that secret I need to tell?"

She nodded.

"I have a crush." The words tangled themselves together, and Sophie laughed.

"You? A crush?"

Triumphant, Keefe looked to Ro. "Looks like she doesn't understand. How about we send her home?"

"Not yet, pretty boy." Ro wheeled Keefe in the other direction when he tried to turn.

Sophie bounced on the edge of her seat, curious suddenly. What if he was serious?

"Who is it?" she asked. "Someone I know?"

"Definitely," Ro muttered, while Keefe went with the safer answer: "No."

Confused, Sophie crossed her arms. "I can't believe you told Ro before telling me."

Ro snorted. "Believe me, Blondie, this one has been pretty obvious."

"Biana," Sophie guessed.

Keefe laughed, his head shaking emphatically. "She's practically my sister."

"I'm not sure she'd say the same."

"Doesn't matter." Keefe fixed a pair of ice blue eyes on her, so penetrating that her breath abandoned her when he added, "I prefer blondes, anyway."