That’s odd.She’s always been on time in the three years she’s worked here. I check my phone for messages—nothing. No email either.
Is she okay? Did she get into an accident on the way? Is Chad harassing her to get his ring back?
Suddenly my phone buzzes with a text.
–Unknown: Your assistant doesn’t seem to be doing very well. But don’t worry, I’m watching out for her. And you’re welcome. One of these days, I’d love to meet you in person. Have a civilized conversation. Talk about things that would benefit both of us.
What the…? Who is this?Not Mom or Harvey, because they would’ve made sure I knew it was them, especially when they’re acting like they’re doing me a favor by taking care of Klein.
But then who?
Vincent? But it’s not his MO. He likes to make a statement, the kind you don’t forget. A low-key, unsigned note just isn’t his style.
I open the attached photo to see if it provides any clues. The shot’s grainy and slightly out of focus with a dark night sky—obviously taken from far away with a phone, not a camera with a decent lens. Weird. Mom or Harvey would definitely would’ve used a pro. Same for Vincent.
A lot of people in the frame, but I spot Klein with ease. It’s impossible to miss the platinum curls. She’s in nothing but a T-shirt and shorts, her arms wrapped around herself. In front of her is a burning building. Firefighters bustle around, water spewing from multiple hoses aimed at the fire.
I narrow my eyes. When was this taken?
I’m watching out for her.
It’s something Mom or Harvey might say, but nothing else adds up to it being one of them. When did this happen? Anxiety spreads through me like acid. Surely this can’t be from today…
But Klein is late—
My phone vibrates in my hand.
–Klein: Hi, boss. I’m so sorry for the short notice, but I don’t think I can come in today. Amélie can probably cover for me for one day. I think I should be able to come back tomorrow, but I’ll let you know for sure by noon.
My mouth dries. She isn’t providing any details, but the photo can’t be ignored. Mom didn’t just drug me and my brothers. She also left Ares to burn in a forest fire. If Lareina hadn’t found him back then and rescued him, he would’ve died.
Don’t jump to conclusions. Klein could’ve caught something. Or maybe she just overslept. Things happen.
–Me: That’s fine. What’s wrong?
–Klein: My apartment building burned down.
I stare at the phone. My hands start to tremble. I clench them into fists, swallow the ball of panic suddenly swelling in my throat. Klein doesn’t need me to lose control. She needs me to be cool-headed and fix the problem.
I call her immediately.
“Hello?” Her voice is shaky and slightly hoarse, like she’s been smoking a pack a day for the past year, or spent the night screaming at a concert. My money’s on smoke inhalation. When Ares was rescued from the wildfire and finally regained consciousness, he sounded awful from breathing in too much smoke.
“You sound terrible.”
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, really.” Suddenly she has a fit of coughing. It goes on for at least a minute.
“Where are you?” I ask, after she finally regains control. “Did you go to a hospital? Are you injured?”
“Oh no, that wasn’t necessary. It’s just a minor burn.”
I lean forward. “A minor burn? Where?” I hate that she keeps downplaying what happened. Reminds me too much of Ares, who always acts like his experience in the cabin and fire was no big deal. It was a big fucking deal—big enough that it made him unable to form any sort of relationship with a woman because he couldn’t bear being touched without feeling suffocated, until he met Lareina. He never shared what happened, but Mom must’ve abused him in ways I can’t even imagine.
You’re the most like me.
The words slither in my mind like vipers. I grind my teeth.
“On my arm,” Klein says with a soft sigh.
