Jamie smiled, too, though the clouds hadn’t fully cleared from his eyes. “Do you remember when we got that word from one of Dad’s books when we were little?”
“And Destelle overheard you quiz me on it, and was freaked about how a ten-year-old knew that word.” Despite the mention of my sister, that memory was a light one compared to the one threatening to swallow me whole. “S-Y-P-H-I-L-I-S.”
Jamie lifted his palm toward me. “Nice.”
I high-fived him, and the soft sound nearly drowned out the sound of a door upstairs clicking shut. Nearly.
“I won’t bring it up again,” Jamie said, drawing my attention to him, and the sound was forgotten. “But as long as the secret won’t eat you alive… I’ll let you keep it.”
My stomach still felt heavy, though, like I’d swallowed a rock. What Jamie didn’t know was that the secretwaseating me alive. I deserved it. If I wasn’t going to come clean, I deserved to be haunted by it. “Thanks.”
Jamie headed back into the kitchen to help Mom while I started upstairs. I wanted to change out of my uniform, to scrub my makeup off my skin, as if those actions would help make me feel clean again. My hand coasted up the railing, and when I got to the landing, I froze.
The banister was warm, as if someone had stood there, unmoving, holding onto it for a long time. I glanced down the dark hallway to the shut door of Dad’s study, and then I looked over the banister. Directly below, in plain sight, was where Jamie and I had stood.
U-N-S-E-T-T-L-I-N-G.
I decided on a shower, one so hot that it’d burn off whatever feeling had covered me like mud.
CHAPTER 13
The Alderton-Du Ponte fundraisers and galas were refined in a way that was almost movie-like, where people broke out their finest jewels and donned their most expensive dresses, and spent the evening throwing around money as if it were nothing more than tissues in their pockets. They bragged about their pearls and their diamonds and their wallets, guffawed at the latest increase in their stock portfolio, and walked away lightly buzzed from the gossip and champagne.
But when there was a birthday party, it was like the gates of hell opened up, transforming the glitzy ballroom into nothing short of a nightmare. Depending on whose birthday it was, the middle-aged socialites regressed to someone in their mid-twenties. They drank more than they should’ve. Danced to club music in a way that made my skin crawl.
Dr. Conan was even doing shots.
“That’s going to kill him,” Daisy said, and watched asthe sixty-year-old man threw back another shot of caramel vodka. His wife and a few others hooted encouragements. “Even if he’d only done one, I’d be worried. That’s his third.”
“Fourth,” I corrected. “He did one when you went to the bathroom.”
Daisy muttered an impressed curse. “They’re going to be so embarrassed when the Pembletons show up. Is it wrong to be excited to watch Dr. Conan fumble his way through awelcomespeech?”
“Maybe. But you’re not alone.” He wasn’t the only one I was worried about, though. Mrs. Holland, toward the middle of the dancefloor, was holding onto hands that did not belong to her husband, swaying her hips and sinking so low to the ground that I was sure she wasn’t going to be able to push back to her feet.
A horrifying sight, truly.
“My mom is going to be scandalized when she gets back,” I told Daisy, leaning my head on her shoulder. I’d pulled my chair up alongside hers at the table, basking in the comfort of my best friend’s presence amidst this madness. “How long does it take to pick up pizzas?”
Mom wasn’t the only one missing out on the raucous evening, though. Despite it being his aunt’s birthday, Beck had yet to make an appearance. Not that I was looking for him, of course. It was just something I’d noticed. There was a sort of anxious unease about not being able to see Beck. Not knowing where—or when—he’d pop up next. If I didn’t have my back to the wall, I would’ve been nervous about him appearing over my shoulder.
“I’m surprisedyou’restill here,” I said, tipping my head to peer at Daisy. Aside from the fact that Mom was out getting pizza, the only reason we were still here was because Mom was Ms. Jennings’s best friend, and if Mom left, there’d be no one to hold Ms. Jennings’s hair when she puked. “I know your mom is watching the kids, but this can’t be your ideal night out.”
“I’m always down for a little time out of the house,” she said in a light voice, but I heard the unspoken meaning behind it.I need a break.“However, watching Mrs. Hollandgrindis at the bottom of my list of things I’d like to do.”
“Face masks are better.”
“Ugh. Don’t even mention face masks. To think we could’ve been doing that instead…”
“You could come back to the house and stay the night.” I nestled into her arm. “We haven’t done that in ages. Remember last time, when you fell asleep on Jamie’s floor instead of mine?”
“You should’ve woken me. Your rug ismuchcomfier than his wooden floors.”
“He wouldn’t let me. Said you looked too peaceful.”
She snorted and then pulled back enough that I had to lift my head off her shoulder. Her eyebrows were up. “So, is tonight the night wefinallycommence Operation Dr. Pembleton? I feel like we haven’t really talked about it.”
Right, because according to Carter’s DM I’d gotten ten minutes ago, he and his parents had already left their house. It was strange—I felt more anxious than excited. “I think so.”
