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I pull my laptop over to the bed and open up my email. But when I click on Calder’s message, I don’t find one of his normal life updates. Instead, I find three short sentences.
I need to talk to you. Right now. Call me immediately.
My heart jumps back into my throat. Something’s wrong. Something’s horribly wrong. Why didn’t he call me? I know we don’t exactly chat over the phone, but he has my number. I reach for my pocket, but then I remember—I left my phone up here today. In my extreme exhaustion, I must have forgotten to take it off the charger this morning.
When I grab my phone, I find that I have seven missed calls. One from Ian, and six from Calder. I feel like someone’s dumped a bucket of ice water over my head.
It doesn’t matter that Calder and I haven’t spoken in weeks—or that we were estranged for more than a year before that. It doesn’t matter that the last time I saw him, I snuck out in the middle of the night and probably earned myself a scathing mark in his fiancée’s opinion forever. I dial my brother immediately.
He picks up after one ring.
“Lou,” he says. “Where the hell are you?”
It’s a little strange, hearing his voice. And I know that tone all too well, despite the fact that I haven’t heard it since right after our father died. It’s his I know better than you voice.
But there’s no time to play the defensive little sister.
“What’s going on?” My own voice sounds a little shaky. “What’s wrong?”
“Where are you? Answer me honestly, Louisa.”
He sounds completely ticked, and my throat tightens. He knows I’m here. How does he know I’m here?
It hits me like a friggin’ shovel to the head: Ian.
Calder doesn’t wait for me to answer him.
“One of your friends from Cunningham Cares contacted me this morning,” he says. “He told me he saw you earlier this week and that you were out at the estate.”
The cold fear that gripped me is replaced by anger. Dammit, Ian! Why couldn’t you have left it alone? Left me to my mess and gotten on with your life?
“Look,” I say, “I know it sounds crazy—”
“Damned right it’s crazy! What the hell’s going on?”
“Well if you’d stop yelling at me and calm down for one freaking minute, I’ll tell you.”
On the other end of the line, I hear the long, slow exhale of his breath. Calder never really had much patience or understanding for some of my wilder exploits, but he’s still my brother. I need to remember that he’s worried about me.
It takes me a moment to gather my own thoughts. I’m not going to let him boss me around, even if he’s my big brother. On the other hand, I don’t want to fight with him. Not when we’re talking to each other for the first time in weeks.
“It’s complicated,” I say softly.
That’s how I always begin, isn’t it? It’s always complicated with me.
“I needed to come back here again,” I rush on. “After I saw what they were doing to this place, I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing.”
“And what exactly do you think you’re going to do?” His voice is steady but strained, and I know it’s taking a lot of effort to hold in his temper. “I sold it. It’s gone. It doesn’t belong to us anymore. Edward Carolson can do whatever he damn well wants with the place.”
“I’m not… I know there’s nothing I can do. Nothing that will stop things from going forward.” I take a deep breath. “But… I needed to do this, Calder.”
It’s the same line I gave to Ian, and it gets the same response.
“Why?”
Why do you need to do this? Over and over and over again. I don’t have the answer.
“I don’t even understand how this happened,” Calder continues. “He said you were there under a false identity. How? What did you do?”
“It’s… complicated.”
Calder’s not an idiot. He knows about some of my old “friends” with connections. He had a few of his own, back when he was a little wilder.
“You need to get out of there,” he says.
I don’t want to fight. But I refuse to run, even if the rest of the world is telling me I should. I want to tell him about everything I’ve seen here. About the stupid cherubs they’ve painted on every wall. About the wine. About those ridiculous portraits of Carolson they have hanging in the dining room. About the reporters crawling over everything, taking photographs of every last inch of the estate.
But I know that won’t change his mind. He has everything together now. And I just have madness.
“Just… trust me,” I say. “Please.” Please, try to understand.
He doesn’t say anything for a moment. I can practically hear him debating options in his head.
“I can come pick you up in the morning,” he says. “You can come stay with me and Lily for a while.”
“I don’t need to stay with you guys.”
“You need to get out of there.”
He can repeat that all he wants, but it doesn’t change anything.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I need to go.”
“Louisa—”
“I’ll think about it,” I lie. But Calder sees right through my words.
“Louisa, you—”
“Bye,” I say, hanging up before he can finish. I drop the phone on the bed and flop back on the pillows.
Predictably, Calder calls back immediately. But I don’t answer. I cross my arms over my face and pray for the ringing to stop. I feel like I’m about to fall apart.
This is the right thing, isn’t it? Forcing myself to face this? Forcing myself to be around this house and these people until I’m willing to accept that my old life is gone? That my father is gone?
I’m shaking again, but I try to fight it down. I grasp for the hollowness, searching for it deep in my gut, and when I find it, I allow it to wash over me. To help drive out all the doubts and pain.
I move like a zombie, getting ready to go meet Ward. Knowing that I get to see him tonight is the only thing keeping me from going completely over the edge. I let the numbness settle into my limbs and belly as I brush my teeth and hair and change into a simple tank top and pair of jeans. I don’t put on any makeup. I want him to see me as I truly am.
I haven’t forgotten my promise that I’d tell him the truth about my identity tonight. I know that thought should terrify me after everything that’s happened today, but if anyone can understand my confusion, somehow I feel like it might be Ward.
