AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Why did it matter? She left because she left. I didn’t know why. It might have been me. Or that man she met. Or this.” He gestured at the canvas again. “You were fine, both of you girls. You didn’t need her. You had each other.”
“No. No no no.” She marched to the canvas and took it from him, turning it to face the wall. “You should have told us. I needed to know.”
He grunted, but she wasn’t through yet.
“I always wanted to know, but I didn’t let myself think about it. I didn’t ask. Oh my God. I should have asked. I should have spoken up. But that doesn’t let you off the hook, Papa. You should have told us.”
Her father was looking at her as if he’d never met her before. As in, who was this person who looked like Jenna but sounded nothing like her? “Maybe,” he finally said. “Guess I should have.”
Jenna barely knew how to respond, so she just nodded, and turned the painting around again so she could see it. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from that image of her mother. How scary that must have been—for both of them. One time, she’d taken her eyes off Zack on the changing table and he’d rolled onto the floor. He wasn’t hurt, but it had taken her weeks to recover.
“Do you remember when that happened?” her father asked.
Jenna shook her head. “Not exactly. Just feelings. Like being desperate to get to her. Terrified. I was too young, right? I was three when she left?”
He inclined his shaggy head. “About that. Annika was seven or so.”
“Oh my God! Annika!” Hearing her sister’s name rang another bell—something she should have thought of earlier.
“What about Annika?” Her father was actually listening to her and responding. It was…a weird feeling.
“Her seizure. The boys described it just like that.” She gestured at the fallen figure of her mother. “What if it’s hereditary?”
For the first time in her life, she and her father gazed at each other as full, mutually respectful equals.
“Could be,” he said softly. “You did inherit the artistic gene, after all.”
Her mouth fell open. Was Richard Scarlett actually acknowledging that she too was an artist, in her own completely different way?
Although that felt good, she didn’t really need it anymore. She was a fantastic botanical artist, whether the Hermit knew it or not. Besides, there was something more important on her mind now.
Seeing her mother collapse—falling with her—part of her had never forgotten it. But that wasn’t even the end of it. Her mother had left after that. Really left. In other words, the fear that had been sparked by that seizure then came true because her mother wasn’t there anymore.
And then no one gave her any answers about that. Her father had buried himself in his painting. Annika had stepped in as best she could. And Jenna had shoved all her questions and confusion deep inside.
No wonder she struggled with anxiety. Her mind was always working overtime to anticipate the worst. Was that what she was doing right now, with Billy and the photo-stalker? Building up her walls out of sheer anxiety? Retreating back to her safe castle?
Billy. Suddenly she was desperate to see him.
Twenty-Seven
Billy had intended to drop the boys off and head back to town. The camera stalker was interested in him, not his kids, so they’d be safe after he left. Then he could work on his next priority—finding out who was behind the photos.
But Bean clung to his left leg, refusing to let him go until they’d picked a good spot for the fort. He gave in, thinking of how much the boys had been through, between the storm and Annika’s seizure.
He chose a spot well out of sight of anyone in the area, between the back terrace and the side door that opened onto the kitchen.
“It’ll be a secret tunnel!” Tyler yelled. “We can hide in here and surprise my dad when he gets back!”
Annika and Brent were due to return that morning, and Tyler couldn’t contain his excitement. Apparently he was used to his father being gone on business trips, but he didn’t like it. Yet one more thing that all three boys had in common.
“You gotta help us, Daddy!” yelled Zack. “We need logs!”
“Please, Daddy, please!” said Bean.
Telling himself it would just take a few minutes, Billy threw himself into packing snow, piling logs for an understructure, crawling inside each section to make sure it was safe.
The first attempt collapsed on top of him, and his sons had to dig him out, laughing hysterically the entire time.
