“Careful,” he adds lightly. “Upstairs gets messy.”
We have barely opened the door when I see her. She’s leaning against a column, laughing at something a man says—and licking one of the lollipops between sentences, absentminded. The black sugar has stained the corner of her mouth.
“Lucas,” I say quietly.
He follows my gaze.
I move. “Mill?—”
She turns and her eyes just slide right past me before they snap back into focus and her face drains of all color.
“What are you doing here?” she hisses, straightening instantly.
“I came to see you.”
“Why?”
“Because Dad said?—”
Her eyes flick to Lucas behind me. “You brought someone?”
“He’s my?—”
“Don’t,” she snaps.
The man beside her frowns. “You got a problem?”
“No,” she says quickly, forcing a smile at him. “Family thing.”
She grabs my wrist and drags me a few feet away, just out of earshot. “You can’t be here.”
“Millie—”
“You don’t belong here.”
Her pupils are blown wide. “You’re high.”
She laughs, offended. “I’m working.”
“You’re licking ash like it’s candy.”
“It is candy.”
“Millie.”
Her jaw tightens. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
She leans closer. “You need to leave.”
“I’m not leaving without you.”
“It’s not up to you,” she whispers.
Behind us, Lucas stands awkwardly and out of place in his clean coat and polished shoes. Millie glances at him again. “He doesn’t belong here either.”
“I know.”
