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“This won’t work,” I tell her bluntly, and then I turn to Skye. “Compensate her for the whole month and send her away. I want her out of here. Tonight.”
I don’t look back down at her. I won’t survive. I just turn on my heel, fighting nausea. Skye’s chair is scraping back already, as he scrambles to run after me, but I’m too fast.
“Isaiah,” he says in what I call his ‘dad voice’. I’m in no mood for it. “Let’s talk about it, ok?”
“Absolutely not,” I fling over my shoulder as I storm out. “Send her away. She… This girl needs to go.”
The Elliot sisters chat room
Eden: I need to go.
Eden: I need to leave.
Eden: I don’t know what I was thinking, coming here, thinking he would… Thinking that he…
Eden: He hates me. He absolutely hates me. He can’t stand the sight of me.
Eden: The look of pure disgust on his face… He looked like he was about to die from it. Like he was about to barf just from looking at me. He looked away so fast, as if I were a monster.
Eden: How could I think that he’d give me a second chance?
Eden: I was so wrong, I can’t believe how wrong I was.
Eden: I can’t stay on this boat a second longer.
Eden: I need to go.
*all messages deleted*
nine
There’s no storming out in a yacht, of course, so I storm into my cabin. Three hours later, I’m still down here, fully awake and hyperventilating.
This cannot be happening.
What are the chances? Virtually zero. This can’t be a coincidence. Something’s going on here, only I don’t know what. Once more, I’m out of the loop. Decisions are being made for me without me.
I hate my life I hate my life I hate my life.
That girl needs to be out of here now.
It’s not the boots or the fainting or the nearly dying.
It’s something much deeper, muchmuchworse.
It’s that deep down inside I have a gnawing fear that she doesn’t just look like Eden. Crazy as it sounds, what if itisher?
What if the girl with the boots is her? The girl who destroyed me.
The girl who pierced my heart and left me for dead.
I mean, I might be mistaken; I hope to God I am. I don’t know how much she’s changed in these past four years. I’m not sure I ever knew her all that well to begin with. I could never have guessed all the horrible things she would do to me, that’s for sure.
And I would never, ever have guessed, not in a million years, that she would hate me that much, after all these years, that she would come here, during my first ever sold-out international tour, to ruin me all over again.
…
Early the next morning, Jude finds me playing Sibelius in the piano room, music sheets spread out like a blanket of snow all around me. He texts Miki where to find me. Great.
