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I try a couple more times as we eat to get an answer out of them about where on earth we’re going, but they remain tightlipped. Maybe it should make me nervous, considering our history together—the first time they ever took me somewhere without telling me where we were going, it was to a strip club so they could gather blackmail material on Trent.

But so much has changed since then that instead of nervousness, I just feel curiosity and a little bubble of excitement. If nothing else, guessing what they have planned is taking my mind off the acute pain of missing my mom today.

Mr. Lauder comes downstairs on his way out to play golf and says hi to all of us before he leaves. We leave only a few minutes after him, piling into Dax’s car and heading out to pick up the other two boys.

When River slides into the back seat next to Chase, I crane my neck to look back at him.

“I heard this little excursion was your idea.”

He shrugs, a secretive smile pulling at his lips. “I had the germ of the idea, but it’s not just mine.”

I squint at him. “So… I don’t suppose you’ll give me a hint where we’re going?”

He doesn’t even answer that, just smiles wider.

Yeah, thought so.

Rolling my eyes at him with a grin, I flop back on the seat, facing forward again.

As Dax drives with one hand lazily slung over the wheel, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and pull it out.

HUNTER: Happy birthday, bestie. Love your face. Miss your face.

The message is followed by several memes of animals attacking each other with hugs, and I snort a laugh.

ME: Love you back. Graduate already so we can go to the same college and see each other every day.

HUNTER: You joke, but I’m 100% serious. This is happening.

My grin widens, and she doesn’t have to know that tears are pricking at my eyes as we text back and forth. I can’t help the ache that tugs at my heart, but it’s nice to pretend for a few minutes that my life is normal. That I can have the kind of future we’re talking about. That I’ll be celebrating on my graduation day instead of visiting my mom in prison.

I can tell she’s trying to give me good things to think about on my birthday, but the bad shit is never far from either of our minds, something that’s made clear with her last text.

HUNTER: Love you, girl. Be strong, okay. Call me if you need ANYTHING.

ME: I will. Thanks, dummy.

As I slip the phone back into my pocket, Dax’s free hand moves to rest on my thigh. I’m getting way too used to this—to the comfort even that small touch provides.

A few minutes later, we pull through the gate and up the familiar driveway to Lincoln’s house. The Black family mansion looms above us, broad and imposing, and it seems both utterly familiar and strange at the same time.

I lived here for nearly three months, but that seems like a lifetime ago—or like a snippet from a different girl’s life entirely.

I’m pulled from my thoughts as the front door bursts open and Lincoln heads down the front steps with a heavy gait. He’s pissed about something. I can see it in every line of his body, in the stormy expression on his face. My gaze follows him as he strides toward the car, but movement near the door draws my attention back toward the house.

Samuel Black stands in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest as he watches his son yank open the car door and slip inside.

Dax doesn’t hesitate or wait to find out what’s going on. As soon as the door slams shut, the car rolls into motion again, curving around the circular drive before heading back out toward the street.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” I turn around as far as my seatbelt will allow, trying to get a glimpse of Linc’s face. He’s sitting directly behind me, so it’s hard, but I can feel anger surging out from him like a magnetic pulse.

“My dad is what’s fucking wrong,” he growls. “That conniving bitch Paige is holding their affair over his head, threatening to tell the whole world if he doesn’t do what she wants—and he’s caving. It’s like he doesn’t fucking see that no matter what he gives her now, it’ll never be enough. She as good as admitted to him that she tried to get pregnant, that she wanted this to happen, and he’s still letting her control him like a damn puppet.”

“Fuck.” Dax scrubs a hand over the back of his neck, sliding his fingers through the short strands of coppery hair at the base of his skull. “That’s messed up.”

“That’s not the worst part.” A muscle in Linc’s jaw twitches. “He’s agreed to her terms, for now, but it’s only a matter of time before they change again. Before she wants more. So he’s trying to shield himself preemptively against the fallout in case she decides to follow through on her threat and try to ruin his reputation.”

“That’s not the worst thing, Linc,” I say softly. “I mean, it’s awful that he cheated on your mom—er, Audrey—but it could affect all of you badly if Paige goes after him hard. Maybe he’s just trying to protect you guys.”

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