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But he doesn’t see what I see.
And maybe trouble is still here.
Chapter 14
Paige
Yesterday, when Emma came home from school with Stefan Nikolaeva, she ran to me, and the smile quickly disappeared from her lips.
“We need to talk,” she whispered. “But not here,”
Andrei was too busy speaking with Stefan to notice.
I pulled her close to kiss her cheek and whispered, “Where? When?”
“Tonight. In the woods, where no one will hear us.”
***
Quietly, Emma and I step out into the night through the French doors of the ballroom. I left one unlocked during the day, removing the risk that it might set off an alarm.
The autumn wind has died down after sweeping away the clouds, and the moon is bright enough to light our way. I carry a flashlight large enough to use as a weapon should the need arise, and Emma carries a smaller one just in case one isn’t enough. Our footsteps are muffled by the carpet of thick grass blanketed with leaves as we hop over the wooden fence leading to the lane.
I walk behind Emma as she follows the steady beam of light that stretches out ahead of us. Soon the mansion is in the distance, and we’re free to speak out loud.
Emma breaks the silence. “I thought I wasn’t even good enough for Viktor.”
“Viktor isn’t good enough for you,” I remind her. “Do you still care about him?”
Emma sighs as she climbs further up the hill. “I see him, and I’m polite, that’s all. And he’s polite to me. He’s just a guy now.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” Though I doubt it’s entirely true. I pant a little. The extra weight on my body causes me to break into a sweat. “So, what about Stefan?”
Emma lets out a short laugh. “We’refriends. Some girl tried to bully me, and I made her cry. He calls meRella.”
“Rella?” I ask, confused. “Is that good?”
“It’s short for Cinderella. They think I’m exotic because I was poor.” Emma sighs. “It’s not all bad there.”
My shoe pinches my foot. “How far do we need to go?”
Emma takes the flashlight and sweeps it through the woods. My body stiffens, hoping we’re nowhere near the clearing, where there are always wide, muddy patches in the thin grass.
A fallen tree appears in the beam of light. “This is good enough,” Emma says, sitting down on it. “No more secrets.”
I sit beside her. “No more secrets.”
Emma thanked me for telling her the truth about Dad. Well, a cleaned-up version that didn’t include Mom’s sacrifice. That was hard for me to deal with, and I didn’t want it to occupy a place in Emma’s brain forever.
“I found this.” She hands me a worn strip of duct tape with three flash drives attached to the adhesive side. “It was attached to the back of Dad’s computer where the battery should’ve been.”
“Have you looked at it?” I ask.
“No.” Emma continues quickly before I can interrupt. “I also found another file on Dad’s other laptop. It was hidden within his music folder. A text file with a list of names and numbers. All foreign banks.”
“How many names were there?” I ask.
“Not many. About six,” she replies. “I didn’t want to try anything, just in case Natasha or someone else is snooping on our Internet.” Emma hugs her body as though it’s cold out. And I understand. “Do you think this was Dad’s way of apologizing?” she asks. “For everything?”
