How did Woodsen Hale, the Crownes’ longest working servant, secretly have millions of dollars?
No sooner did the question present itself, than I answered it. There was only one person who loved my uncle as much as I did. The one thorny boy who pretended nothing mattered, while giving everything he had.
Tears peppered my lids.
“Miss Hale?” My uncle’s attorney stared at me. “Did you hear me?”
I cleared my throat, coming back to the present. “No, sorry.”
“As I was saying, he stipulated you must go to Scotland before the funds are to be released.”
I opened and closed my mouth. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
I rubbed my forehead. Why? Then like a lightbulb went off in my head, I saw a possibility. Could it be the coin?
My uncle’s lawyer shrugged. “It isn’t the oddest request I’ve seen—”
“Did he say where in Scotland?” I cut him off, leaning across the table. Eager.
“Mmm…” He checked the papers. “No.”
“I’ve already gone to Scotland this year,” I said.
“Oh, well!” He clapped his hands together, like that settled it.
I sunk deeper into the chair. “My uncle really didn’t tell me where?”
“He left you a letter.” He reached into his pile of papers, and pulled out a wax-sealed envelope. “If there are instructions in there, I don’t know. It wasn’t for me to read.”
I was a little afraid to read it in front of him. I didn’t want to cry in front of a stranger. But my thumb glanced the waxy seal, opening the envelope to reveal an ivory letter.
My dear Storybook,
By now you’ve left Crowne Hall. I hope you’ve found what I left you, I hope your wish came true, whatever you chose.
If you’re ever lost, find Josephine.
If you can’t find her, then remember, I always loved your poetry, Story.
Missing me one place…
I lifted my head. “This is it?”
“I thought the sixty million would have sufficed,” he said dryly.
After he explained all I had to do was prove I’d been to Scotland—a ticket, a photo, something—I left, using the little time I had to myself to wander.
It felt like everyone was watching me as I walked down Main Street. I shook off the feeling, tugging my pea coat around my body.
I missed this.
Just being free to walk wherever, whenever. I needed the space to walk, to clear my head. My little Meyer lemon was nowhere near the size of a lemon anymore, growing inside of me and ready to pop soon. All of this was for her, for Grayson, and for the family I never had. So she could grow up out of the shadows, with a father who loved her and a mother she could be proud of.
But my uncle was the only person in my family whose opinion I cared about. What did it mean that he died with a vision of my future that was so different than reality?
I hadn’t left Crowne Hall…
My wish hadn’t come true.
Josephine was dead.
Josephine said I should have found it and my uncle said I should have found her. Everything seemed to point to Scotland… I felt like I’d made it to the end of a mystery book, but the middle had been ripped out. There was a vital piece of information I was missing.
I rubbed my forehead, trying to work the problem out, when something caught my eye across the street.
It was a quaint magazine stand, the wood painted white and blue to match the nautical theme of Main Street. Standing in front were two women, staring at me and talking behind their hands. When they saw I’d looked back, they froze like deer in headlights, slamming the magazine in their hands back on the stand, and rushing down the street.
But they looked back.
Morbid curiosity had me walking across the street to the stand. One story dominated almost every magazine. I stared at them until the bright, yellow words blurred. Until the car Grayson had secured for me stopped
“Miss?” the driver said. “You were supposed to call when you finished. We’re late.”
I kept staring, even as he shepherded me inside the car.
It wasn’t my face, all blown up and glossy, that made my blood curdle.
It was the headline.
Forty-Three
GRAY
It was an hour past the time Story was supposed to return. The sun was drooping in the sky, a hazy orange glow across the party. Another scandal had broken. I wasn’t sure what—didn’t generally give a shit—but it was obvious by the excited whispers and looks.
Chum had fallen to the sharks.
And West hadn’t stopped glaring at me.
“Where did you tuck away my mistress?”
I dragged my hand across my jaw. I wanted to give Story space to heal…but he was getting too fucking comfortable.
Story stumbled into the garden. She grasped the trunk of a cherry blossom tree, looking left and right with wide eyes.
Something was off.
Wrong.
West and I saw her at the same time, both making a beeline to get to her first.
“What’s wrong, little nun?”
“Where did you spend the afternoon, Angel?”
“You said you wouldn’t do this!” she yelled, shoving West with two hands.
Interested parties looked over, ready to devour any gossip crumbs. In that instant, I took her arm to pull her out of the garden and away from prying eyes, from people who would punish her for being human.
West followed.
The minute we were inside a small garden shed, she ripped out of my hold.
“You promised,” she whispered, eyes locked on West’s leather shoes.
I grabbed West’s collar. “The fuck did you do?” There was an edge slicing my words, slicing me. I was unraveling simply because Snitch was coming undone and I didn’t know why.
West gripped my forearm, fighting with my grip. “I didn’t do shit.”
“It’s front-page news!” Story yelled.
“What is she talking about?” I slammed him against the wall.
“I don’t know!”
Story held up her phone between us, showing a headline.
The Modern Cinderella? Don’t Drop Your Shoe, Just Cry Rape.
Her rape, online, everywhere.
This was it. This is how West dies.
I pressed my forearm into his neck until he sputtered to breathe.
“You…” She grasped her chest like she couldn’t breathe. “This is my fault. I’m a fucking idiot.” Story reached blindly for the doorknob. “I have to get out of here.”
Red cleared from my eyes, and I turned back to Story. “You can’t go out there. I don’t know how this didn’t spread in the morning, but everyone out there knows now.”
She couldn’t leave, not when I didn’t know how to fix this.
Not when I’d never seen her like this.
She threw up her hands. “Hiding in here won’t stop them from knowing.”
West gripped her elbow. “Angel, wait—”
She yanked her elbow free. “Fuck you.”
The door slammed and I immediately opened it to go follow, when West said to my back, “This is all because of you.”