Page 46 of Statler

And it was all because of her father, who’d never lent any validation to her art, and unfortunately still maintained control over her, even here, in what should have been her safe space.

William Flazer often came to her door unannounced, at random times, doing what he called “inspections” of the house.

And if he ever saw her painting, he’d destroy her work, just as he had done when she was younger.

And didn’t that just suck.

Autonomous, but not.

Her house, but not.

At the time Eliza and Holden had purchased the place, Eliza had been so starry-eyed that she’d let Holden take care of all the financial details.

Mistake.

It wasn’t until it came time to sign the final papers that Eliza realized the mortgage holder would be…her father.

She’d tried, unsuccessfully, to get Holden to rethink William’s involvement, but he’d brushed off her concerns and assured her that eventually they’d look into getting a bank loan to pay her father off.

That had never happened.

Holden had died.

And now, the manipulative old bastard who was the sole cause of Eliza’s despondency, took every opportunity to let her know who still owned her life.

It—

Shit.

She’d let Statler hang for far too long, wrapped in her own misery.

“Uh, sorry, but… Um. I can’t,” she told him reluctantly. “I have standing engagements on both Saturdays and Sundays. Things I can’t skip.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.”

Was that genuine disappointment she heard in his voice?

She’d never know, because Statler adroitly changed the subject.

“When do you have fun, then? Like…what do you do for entertainment?”

Entertainment?

Eliza wanted to laugh.

Not a damned thing.

But she didn’t want to sound like a loser, so she spit out the first pastime that came to mind.

“I fish.”

Dammit.

She hadn’t been fishing since the Derby two years ago when Holden was still alive.

Statler’s voice actually perked up again. “You do? I love fishing. My sister and I are always angling at a pond near my home.”

Of course he liked fishing. Now he was going to⁠—