The line went completely silent.
And then it went dead.
Sighing, I stared at the screen, a picture of Henry smiling back at me.
I just hoped he never got too curious for his own good. I hoped he never saw our father the way I used to—as someone to admire and strive to become.
It only led to darkness.
I threw my phone onto the bed and stared at the closed bedroom door.
I wasn’t sure if Fern was home. School had started earlier this week, but we didn’t share any classes. I was willing to bet that was January’s doing. Unless she’d been coming or going at the same time as me, then I hadn’t seen her here either, and even then, she was silent, forever in a hurry as soon as I appeared.
I didn’t know if she hated me or wanted me, and I didn’t care.
Evidently, she wanted nothing to do with me, and I was fine with that—fiancé or not.
This morning, I’d rehung the picture of the Nightingale back on the wall with all its missing glass. She’d walked by me on her way out the door without so much as a pause.
She hadn’t appeared shocked by what had been revealed to her.
Give it time, I thought and made my way to the en suite. All too soon, she’d be begging Mommy dearest for a way out.
She’d never find one.
Dad crossed his ankles, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “The nightmares are far less frequent now. Dr. Monrow said he’s doing okay.”
“That doesn’t matter.” I stopped myself from pleading with him, standing there with my arms crossed. “Please, just be there. Just fucking be there, and if you can’t, then bring him here.”
He stared at me for a long moment, then he nodded. “How’s Fern?”
“Acts like I don’t exist,” I said, unfolding my arms and grabbing a meal from the fridge. “So I wouldn’t know.”
“Have you apologized for what you did to her?”
I withheld a biting retort and said nothing.
Dad scratched his cheek, expelling a loud breath. “You really ought to let Rhiannon come over and cook for you, too.”
I chucked the meal into the microwave. “Henry needs her.”
“So I’ll find you someone else.”
I knew he could, but something stopped me from allowing anyone else entry into this new home of mine. It didn’t feel like home at all, but if there was one thing I was thankful for, it was the lack of memories.
Everything was brand new, even the silent snake who resided here with me seemed different.
“I’ve already got Silas in my hair most days,” I said for an excuse. “It’ll get too cramped.”
“How’s he doing?” Dad asked.
“Wait around another hour, and you’ll find out for yourself.” Seeing his frown, I snatched a fork from the drawer and explained, “He’s been staying in one of the spare rooms most nights.”
“His parents,” Dad said in response.
“Yup. Wants nothing to do with them.”
Dad wiped his hand down his face. “Poor kid.”
Poor kid indeed. My once happy-go-lucky friend was now a grumbling dark shadow. I had enough of those already, so I hoped he fixed his shit somehow and got out of here soon. Though, I honestly didn’t know if there was any fixing what he’d done.
That was the point.
And I knew firsthand exactly how that made one feel—completely fucking helpless.
Dad saw himself out when the microwave dinged, but then backtracked as I sat down at the counter in front of my risotto. “Oh, don’t forget about the engagement party this Sunday night.”
I didn’t respond, just glared at my food before pushing it away.
The door closed and reopened an hour later, a familiar laugh echoing down the hall into the living room.
Hitting pause on the game, I peered over to find a red dress fluttering, creamy skin, and some prick’s Nikes.
She’d brought a fucking guy home.
I was up in an instant, ready to storm after her and ask what the fuck she thought she was doing. Not only because in my eyes, Red’s only sexual experience was me, but because she was going to piss a lot of powerful people off if she didn’t play by their fucking rules.
I wasn’t about to go down because she’d taken my training and had decided to put it to good use.
A thought entered, unwelcome and infuriating that it was highly probable she’d already been doing that. For months.
Anger funneled through me, a sickness with no way out. I sped down the hall to the stairs and ran right into my useless best friend.
He shoved me back from his chest. “Fuck, Judy. I missed you too, but no need for the tackle hug.”
I snarled. “Piss off.” Glancing behind him at the stairs, I heard a door closing, and it hit me like dynamite in my ears.
Silas followed my gaze, then smirked. “You loved messing with her a little too much, didn’t you?” With a pat on my chest, he skirted around me and headed for the kitchen.
I followed and grabbed a beer from the fridge. “She’s going to fuck this whole thing up, and knowing January, it’ll be my head on the chopping block, not Fern’s.”
Silas took a seat at the counter and stole my beer.
I got another, turning to find he’d stolen my uneaten, cold as shit risotto, too. “You gotta tell her, then.” I didn’t like the sound of that, and he chuckled, his hair a stringy mess he pushed out of his eyes. “Your fucking face right now.”
“Your fucking hair right now.” He just grinned at his food, and I grunted, “I’ll leave her a note.”
Rice flew as he guffawed. “You’re not ten. Man up.”
I gave him a look. “Me?”
He grumbled, “Fuck you,” and shoved more food into his mouth.
“How long do you plan to hide out here for again?”
“Forever,” he mumbled, then glared at me, something I was unaccustomed to. “Problem with that?”
“Well, yeah. Quite a few, actually.”
“Write me a note too,” he said. “I’ll be sure to use it to wipe my fine ass.”
Feeling kind of nauseated, I ditched my beer and lousy friend and forced myself upstairs to my room. I probably just needed a shower and sleep.
Let Fern fuck it all up. What did I care? Maybe then I wouldn’t have to marry her, consequences be damned.
Fern
Our engagement party wasn’t held at The Ribbon like I’d thought it would be.
Horror swept through me as we pulled up outside the Hystenya, and my driver opened the door to reveal my future husband.
“Why here?” I said through my teeth, trying to light the devil on fire with my eyes.
“I had nothing to do with it.” Jude tipped a shoulder, taking my arm in his and whispering, “This is not for Nightingale. This is for the outside world.”
Even dressed in a dark gray tuxedo, the touch of his arm against mine made my skin crawl, biting shivers cascading over me like stinging nettle.
Inside, the party was already in full swing in a suite that took up the entire floor third from the top. I was sure I had my mother to thank for that much, at least—that I didn’t have to be subjected to more humiliation in the same room. Why not spread it out?