“No. That would be disruptive and the lower level is for staff only.” She chides me like a naughty toddler, and I have to remind myself that she’s Kwame’s favorite person.
“Okay. Anywhere else off limits?”
“I think you’ll find your rooms to be equipped with anything you might need. And if it’s not, we’re just a buzz away.”
When she leaves, I'm still trying to decide whether she meant that to sound like a warning. I look out at the river that, just this morning, made me think of heaven.
Now I see a chasm keeping me from the world I belong to. I feel an unsettling urge to leave. What would happen if I said fuck this party?
Fuck the glory of this byline.
Fuck the thrill of the chase.
I shake my head rapidly to stop my thoughts from spiraling. I’m safe. I’m just unsettled by the questions my conversation with Mr. Palmer stirred up.
I need this story. I’ve bet my future on it.
And all of those stolen items deserve to be back where they belong.
I’m just tired.
I lay down, eyes wide and wonder why I can’t sleep.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Kwame
Home
“Where have you been?” she grumbles as soon as I walk into the house. She’s sitting at the bottom of the bifurcated staircase in the same dress she’d been wearing when I left her here nearly twelve hours ago.
“The interview went long and threw my whole day off.”
She stands on the second step from the bottom and cups either side of my neck.
I glance around the foyer for signs of life. I’m not sure I’m ready for PDA in front of my dad. “Where is he?” I whisper.
“Out,” she says with a wide-eyed smile. “He has more energy than I do.”
“He’s always worked hard and played even harder.”
“Have you been waiting long? I thought you would have gone to bed.”
She yawns and lets her head fall forward to rest on my chest. “I didn’t want to go upstairs without you. This house is huge and after the stories he told me today, it’s got to be haunted.”
I roll my eyes and use my arm to turn her so we’re both facing forward. “I need a shower, food, and sleep.”
“Hard day?” She hooks her arms around my waist and we start up the stairs together.
“Long. I had a meeting with the Governor.”
Her step falters. “Of Virginia?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” she asks with naked incredulity.
“He used to be our neighbor. Technically, he still is. He’s my mentor, sounding board.”
