Luna stared at Grayson, the name echoing in her mind like a death knell. Dr. James Ashford. The kind man who had praised her knowledge, who had looked at her with grandfatherly warmth, who had made her feel accepted and valued.

He had known. All along, he had known exactly who she was.

"That can't be right," she said, her voice hollow with shock. Memories from the dinner crashed over her in waves—the way his eyes had lingered on her face, how he'd seemed almost emotional when she'd ...