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“Hello?” She sounds put out, but at least she answered. I could cry from relief already.
“Grandma? It’s Leni. I’m in trouble and need your help. It’s urgent.”
“Lenora? Slow down. You’re talking too fast. What are you saying?”
“I’m in trouble,” I repeat in a whisper. “Please come. I need your help.”
“What kind of trouble? Where are you?”
“I’m at home, the new house. Mom is still away. Something really bad happened, and I can’t stay here anymore. Please, please, come and get me. I’ll give you the address. But I can’t get out on my own.”
“You’re speaking too quietly. I can barely hear you. What’s happening?”
“I can’t get into details, but…”
Three short beeps signal the call ending. I pull the phone from my ear, cursing softly, prepared to call her back. How could she hang up on me?
As it turns out, she didn’t hang up on me. I no longer have a signal. I don’t have Wi-Fi, either. I turn the phone off, then turn it on again, but that doesn’t change anything. I might as well be holding a toy in my hand. It’s useless.
What is this? What’s happening? No way did the bill go unpaid since my account is connected to Mom’s, and she would never let her cell phone get cut off. What, then? Of all the times for something like this to happen. Hopeless rage bubbles in my chest until I have to press my face to a pillow and scream or else risk shattering into a million pieces.
The unlocking of the door startles me. I assumed everybody was still in bed, but it’s only Colt. Since when am I relieved at the sight of him? Oh right, since his father got home. Nothing in his expression reveals anything of what happened yesterday. There’s no acknowledgment in his glance, no embarrassment or guilt. “Dad wants to talk downstairs.”
I frantically blink back the tears that spring to my eyes before following him out of the room and down the hall. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to look at him today. At least, not this early. What will it be this time? How will he humiliate me this morning? How will he use me? I might as well be on my way to my execution. Part of me wishes I was.
James and Nix are already sitting at the dining room table, though there isn’t any food laid out. I take a seat at the far end, as far away from James as I can get, and he doesn’t seem to care. He, too, looks just the same as ever and sounds just the same. Like nothing truly evil took place yesterday.
“That wasn’t very nice of you,” he murmurs, folding his hands on top of the table. “Calling your grandmother.”
How the hell does he know I did that? What, is he tracking my phone somehow? I don’t even know how it’s possible, but it has to be, or else how would he know? I was speaking so softly that Grandma couldn’t hear me. How could he? This is a wealthy, powerful man. For all I know, he installed something on my phone before the wedding. He might even have done it through our account with the phone company. I don’t have the first clue.
“Our business is our business,” he continues, speaking over my internal questions. “That means what happens behind these walls stays here. It does not leave this house. Do you understand?”
Do I? I certainly understand why he wouldn’t want me telling anybody about what goes on, but that doesn’t mean I understand why it’s happening. He’s waiting for an answer, so all I do is nod, staring down at the tablecloth rather than look at him.
“Have you ever heard of a conservatorship?” he continues. “I have already spoken with your mother on the topic. I would like to apply for one in order to take control of your future going forward.”
That surprises me enough that I look up at him. “Wait. I don’t understand. What does that mean?”
His indulgent smile turns my stomach. “It’s all a bunch of legal mumbo jumbo,” he explains, “I wouldn’t expect you to understand all of it. Suffice it to say, a conservatorship gives me control over your finances, your educational decisions, everything. Every decision you make would instead be made by me. Where you live. Whether or not you work and where you work. All of your healthcare decisions, as well. All of it would be overseen by me. You would make no decision without my consent.”
I would be completely under his control. Why is he doing this? Why me? “You don’t have to do that,” I whisper. “I’m not unstable or anything like that. I won’t do anything harmful to myself. I’ve never even been in trouble. Why would you—”
“Because I said so, that’s why. Because I said that’s what I’m going to do, and your mother didn’t seem to have any problem with it.” No big surprise there. I’m sure she would agree to anything he suggested, so long as she gets to enjoy the privileges of being his wife. Does she know? Does she suspect anything? Even if he showed her who he is, I’m sure she would still deliberately turn a blind eye. Anything, so long as she lives the life she thinks she deserves. She would even hand her daughter over to him. I would put nothing past her.
