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My sister’s defiance blazes like one of my bakery ovens turned all the way up. Courage looks good on her. It scares me to death at the same time. I felt like that when I was sixteen, and I paid for it.
Not Lydia. Not more than she has.
“You’regoing to stay here, with me, where it’s safe.”
She screws her mouth up. “I want todosomething. I want to—”
“I know. But you’re sixteen, Lydia.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“It doesn’t mean you’re a kid.” I didn’t feel like one when Dad called me to his office after I met with those lawyers. Maybe I never did. “But it does mean that Mom and Dad have legal control over you. The best thing you can do right now isstay away.Let me handle this.”
“We’re driving to their house right now.”
“Where you will wait in the car with Mark until I come back with Catherine.”
Lydia’s scowl softens. “Ugh. Fine. But I want to go in there with, like, a sword.”
“Do you know how to use a sword?”
“I’d figure it out.”
“I know you would.” Hope sifts itself in with worry so thick it’s almost panic. “Maybe someday you can take sword-fighting lessons.”
“Yeah, right. Mom would never—” Lydia’s sentence dies off. “Wouldyoulet me?”
Because that’s the scenario we’re trying for, isn’t it? Lydia living with me until she’s eighteen. I couldn’t make that happen for my sisters before. If my dad continues to be on a rampage, I might not be able to make it happen now.
“Yes. I would. If you promised not to literally fall on your sword.”
“Obviously I wouldn’t.” We’re both trying so hard for any lightness at all. Lydia’s frown comes back. “Is there someone we should call?”
“I’ll try Gabriel again.”
“He’s not answering?”
“He’s probably just…” I pull out my phone, but I can’t imagine what Gabriel would be doing that would keep him from answering. Charlotte said he left Mason’s apartment. Gabriel’s had more than enough time to get home and check his messages. “I don’t know. I’ll call again.”
I dial. One ring. Two. Three.
His voicemail kicks in. “You’ve reached Gabriel Hill. I’ll get back—”
“He’s still busy.” I put my hand over Lydia’s hand again. “Maybe Charlotte will know something. And even if she doesn’t, we’ll be okay.”
Lydia gives me a faint, unconvincing smile. She’s losing hope.
I don’t want that for her.
I lean toward the driver again. “Mark? Could you try to go a little faster?”
His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. “Yes, ma’am. My only concern is getting pulled over. The delay could be—”
“Do it anyway. Please.”
He nods, and his hands tighten on the wheel. Mark is one of the few people on staff at my parents’ house that I can trust. He’s the one who brings Lydia to visit me at the bakery. When I lived at home, he drove me to my secret meetings with lawyers. He’s never said a thing to my parents about any of it. I know, because there’s never been any explosion from my dad about Lydia’s visits on the way to school.
“Mark.”
