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We’re not so different, are we?
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From the way Frost had prickled when I made that comment about daddy’s money, I shouldn’t have been surprised at his family’s wealth. They lived in a mansion that took up half of a city block. It was four and a half stories tall and larger in perimeter than two of the Aarons’ rowhouse. The mansion was white with countless artful flowerbeds around it, perfectly landscaped and somehow still half alive despite the cold. The siding and black shutters looked freshly painted. The walkway was perfectly laid brick that I was afraid to step on. Around the side of the house I could make out at least three garage doors opening to a private drive. Trying, probably unsuccessfully, to keep from looking like a fool, I raised an eyebrow. “Do I smell chlorine?”
Frost laughed quietly. The sight of the house seemed to have melted away the worst of his anxiety from the hospital. “Yeah. There’s a small in-ground pool in the courtyard.”
Of course there was.
Frost led me up the walkway to the front door and held open the swinging glass pane for me. I should’ve known the inside of the manor would be even more shocking than the exterior. The foyer walls were carved oak paneling with paintings hung on them that were probably original works. Plush carpet with intricate designs printed on it covered the floor. A little glass table was centered in the room with a vase of fresh roses atop it and a double staircase led to the second floor, from which a balcony looked down on us from three sides. On either side of the stairs, a massive archway led to the rest of the ground floor.
What was most impressive and frankly shocking about Frost’s home, though, was that despite the grandeur, it remained warm. The physical temperature was comfortable, a novelty to me, and the chandelier above us provided the room with a golden glow. The paneling and carpet were warm colors that scaled the large room down and made it homey. And the house smelled like a bakery, as though Frost’s mother had a cookie factory in the basement and let the smells of sugar, vanilla and chocolate flow through the air filtration system.
I shut my mouth awkwardly, realizing that it had dropped open again. “I don’t think I’ve seen a hundred dollar bill in my life, much less something like this. This is incredible, Frost. My God.”
Frost shrugged. “I guess this is what happens when a man inherits a fortune and then decides to become a neurosurgeon.”
Soft footsteps sounded from beyond the archway and a friendly-looking woman around Mrs. Aaron’s age, but tall and thin, entered the foyer. She had long, golden blond hair in a loose braid and wore clothes that looked high-end, but still motherly.
“Caleb, it’s great to see you!” She gave him a hug, grinning, and when she released him, her icy silver eyes touched on me. She smiled warmly and I forced a half-smile back. “You must be Poe. Caleb said you’d be staying with us tonight?”
Frost smiled at his mother and I realized that their warm expressions were almost identical, much like their eyes. “Poe is a good friend and she slipped on the ice earlier today. She has a bit of a concussion, so she needed to stay with someone just in case.”
“Of course. You’re welcome here any time,” she said softly and very sincerely. There was a reflection of motherly concern in those familiar eyes and she seemed like she wished she could hug me. Frost must have asked her not to.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “It’s just one night. I don’t want to intrude.”
“Oh, of course you’re not. It will be a pleasant change to have Caleb here again for the night, especially with the bonus of a guest.” Mrs. Frost said this with a wide smile full of perfect teeth and seemed genuinely happy to have me there. I would never get used to people wanting me around or caring.
As Mrs. Frost stepped away, she added, “Especially such a pretty one, if you don’t mind the compliment, dear.” She smirked at Frost and turned to disappear once more through the right archway, calling over her shoulder. “Your father just got home from the hospital, so you’re just in time for a late dinner. It should be ready in fifteen minutes or so.”
“Sure, Mom.” Frost rolled his eyes, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth told me that he’d missed his mother in his time living alone and that everything she said, even complimenting me when he’d clearly asked her not to impose, was taken by him as endearing. He started towards the staircase. “Come on.”
I followed him up the stairs, keeping my hand firmly on the gleaming cherry rail on the way. I was still a little dizzy, but not enough to justify asking for Frost’s hand. At the top of the staircase, we went down a wide corridor on the second floor to the back of the manor, which I discovered housed a massive window overlooking the courtyard and pool. The window was floor-to-ceiling and seemed to continue from the ground up through the fourth floor. I paused before the glass and looked down into the black night of the courtyard, broken by the blue ambient of the pool lights. “I’ve never been swimming before,” I said quietly.
Frost stopped and stood beside me, looking down into the tranquil blue water. “Never? Didn’t the Aarons have a pool or take you somewhere at all?”
I snorted, not meeting his icy eyes. “Yeah, right. They wouldn’t drive me six blocks to school, much less to a pool or waterpark.”
“No friends with pools or neighbors? Living in The Heights, there must’ve been neighbors.”
The question dredged up memories of the Faucetts’ block parties. Nina had only invited me once as a prank, though the Aarons were always in attendance. I bit my lip and tasted blood, remembering too late that it had split when Mr. Aaron hit me. “There was a girl who had pool parties all the time in The Heights, but I was never invited. I…I never had friends. I was ‘the creepy girl with the dead family.’”
There was a long pause before Frost answered grimly, “I wouldn’t have treated you like that. I’d never have treated you differently because of your past.” He leaned back against the glass so I could see his face out of the corner of my eye. “Are you going to tell me why your foster-dad hates you?”
My mouth tightened into a thin line and every muscle in my body stiffened like a corpse. Frost must have seen the change because after a short moment of silence, he added, “I’m just trying to help you.”
I knew I was grasping at straws, but I wanted to know anyway. “Frost, why are you helping me anyway? We don’t know each other well. While I appreciate the things you’ve done for me, I don’t understand why you bother. Nobody else gives a damn about me and some of those people know me a lot better. Why do you care?”
He raised an eyebrow and his ice-blue eyes stared deep into my soul. I felt my heart quicken with the way he was looking at me and became suddenly very aware that from where he was leaned against the window, he could easily reach out and put his arms around me, could easily draw me to him, could easily kiss me if I let him. “Why shouldn’t I care?” he whispered, keeping his eyes locked with mine, an intensity that kept me from breathing burning in their depths. “I know you’ve been hurt. I know how hard it is for you to open yourself up. But you can’t lock everyone out. You’ll self-destruct. I saw a way in and now that I’m at least within reach of getting inside your head enough to help you, I can’t stop. I’ve got to finish the job and help you pick up the pieces.”
“But why pick up the pieces? What’s the point?” I asked, tears coming to my eyes but not daring to spill.
His eyes melted into cold molten silver. “I want to help you. That’s my reason. I can see there’s much more to you than your scars and I think that that part of you is worth saving.”
Just then, a thundering noise, as of an elephant stampede, issued from the third floor staircase. Frost groaned, but there was a playful glint in his eye. “And the monsters arrive,” he said.
Three children shot down the stairs and ran towards us. I caught sight of a tall blond girl with pale blue eyes, probably eighteen, a shorter boy with light brown hair and blue eyes that was probably fifteen, and finally a little girl with a shock of nearly silver blond hair and blue eyes, all just like Frost’s, that I guessed to be eight. A glint of light reflected off a shimmering bracelet she wore.
