Exile

Chapter 1

DARWYNN

six months later

Canada was beautiful.

There hadn’t been one place I visited that I didn’t want to move to immediately, but I moved along after a few days of stay and went to visit the next town on my list.

That list consisted of small towns across Canada, and while all the driving was exhausting, I was glad I kept going. I saw so many new things and met new people along the way, and I was starting to love that country so much that I was already thinking about moving here.

On this trip, I also got to know myself better, but the only thing I had yet to figure out was what I wanted to do with my life.

I was currently in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, and this was again one of those cities and towns I could imagine moving to once my traveling was over.

It was my last evening here, and I decided to have dinner at the restaurant next to the hotel. The one I also had my lunch at earlier.

I got seated at a small table by the window, giving me a nice view of the busy street with little shops lit up with fairy lights and beautiful big windows. This area of the city was more touristy, and I enjoyed people-watching wherever I went. This place was perfect for it.

After ordering my food, I pulled out my phone to check the map and the road I would have to take tomorrow morning to return to Burlington. I had made it my mission to drive all eleven hours in one day, and while that would exhaust me, I just didn’t want to stop at a random motel or gas station somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

I had already bought snacks and enough caffeinated drinks to survive an eleven-hour drive, and the only pit stop I intended to make was to go to the toilet.

I got my food and ate the perfectly cooked steak and beans. The mashed potatoes almost burned my mouth, but I loved how warm they made me feel. They made me feel at home, and they made me want to redirect my plans and just never go home ever again.

But I had to go back home.

And only because Mom begged me to.

She missed me, and she wanted to apologize to me for the way she had treated me all these years. She wanted me to go back home so we could talk and so that she could tell me all about the therapy she had done to become a better person.

I had to ask Dale if that had been her initiative. Or if he had been the one telling her to go to therapy. He was a bad liar, and he ended up admitting that he pushed her to go to therapy.

Of course.

I pushed all thoughts of Mom aside to enjoy the rest of my dinner. Letting my eyes wander off to the wall ahead of me, I noticed the signed Polaroid pictures all over it.

I took a closer look and recognized two indie musicians, one rock band, and three actors I’d once seen on TV.

“Crazy, huh? When I started working here, I didn’t even know famous people knew of this place.”

The waitress smiled down at me, refilling my sweet tea. “My favorite was Keanu Reeves. Such a humble man.”

I looked up at her and smiled back. “I heard he’s a good man. He’s a really good actor, too.”

I looked at the wall again. “But there’s no picture.”

“Oh, we had to give that one a special place.”

She pointed toward the bar area, where I saw a large, framed picture of Keanu Reeves with the whole staff. “He deserves the spotlight.”

I laughed softly and nodded to agree with her. “Fair enough.”

“Right? One more actor comes here often, but he asked us not to hang up his picture.”

I was immediately intrigued. “Who is it? Someone as famous as Keanu?”

“Probably even more famous.”

She looked around, then leaned in and lowered her voice. “I’m really not supposed to tell you this, but you don’t seem like a stalker or anything.”

Oh, good.

“It’s Caspian King. He lives about fifty minutes away from here. He’s kind of a regular, actually. He comes here a couple of times a month.”

She stood back up and grinned down at me.

No. Shit.

I pursed my lips. I had wondered what happened to him, especially after that famous interview. I was even worried because he had disappeared from the face of the earth after all of Hollywood had turned against him.

“Do you not know who Caspian King is?”

she asked, looking shocked.

I had two choices here.

Tell her the truth or lie.

I liked telling the truth. Always and at all times.

But there was suddenly a subtle change of plans, and I figured checking on family members I hadn’t seen in years would be nice.

“No, never heard that name.”

I tilted my head to the side. “What movies was he in?”

The woman’s jaw dropped. “Steel Pulse? Viper’s Wrath? The Art of Us?”

She blinked, listing some of the most famous movies ever produced in Hollywood—starring my grandfather. “You have never heard of The Art of Us?”

She was perplexed, and I wished I could’ve told her I knew about that movie and the world-famous actor who starred in it.

“No, sorry.”

I gave her a crooked smile. “Why does he not want a picture of him in here?”

She sighed heavily and waved her hand. “Ah, because this whole interview thing happened a few months ago. On the set of his latest—and probably last—movie, an accident involved his co-star, Harris Grand. A car stunt ended badly. Harris died. They were good friends, and the producers made everyone stay quiet about how that accident happened. Caspian, the man he is, didn’t let anyone silence him, so he told the truth on live TV. But nobody believed him. He lost it, angry at everyone who saw and knew what happened, and so he swore off Hollywood and ended his career.”

I watched her closely as she told me everything I already knew. I didn’t know every detail, but I knew the truth, too. Unlike my mother and many people on the internet, I believed Caspian.

“That’s horrible. How is he doing? You said he comes here often.”

“He’s very grumpy but still very respectful and nice. He always leaves nice tips,”

she said with a wink.

“And where did you say he lives now?”

“I’m really not supposed to say.”

But she would tell me anyway because she thought I didn’t care about the Hollywood actor, Caspian King.

“He lives in Hilton Beach. Very small village. Actually, I think half of that village is a campsite. Either way, he lives totally secluded. Someone once said he has a small house, nothing fancy at all. So he gave up on all the fame and became a normal guy.”

Sounded like a plot for the next blockbuster starring Caspian.

I pursed my lips and reached for my drink. “Fun story,”

I said before drinking a few sips of my sweet tea.

“I know, right? Anyway, I’ll let you finish your food.”

She left my table, and while I continued to eat my now cold steak, I changed the route I was supposed to take tomorrow.

I would have to come up with an excuse to tell my mother why I wasn’t headed home tomorrow. I would lie again because telling her I would see my grandpa wasn’t an option.

She’d freak out, and I didn’t want all that therapy she had to go to waste.

***

I allowed myself to sleep until nine the next morning since I decided not to return home. The reaction I got from Mom after the text I sent her last night wasn’t one I expected.

First, she asked me why I wasn’t going home, and I came up with an excuse that she simply accepted. Then, she asked where I was going, and I told her I would stay in Sault Ste. Marie for a little while longer because I liked it so much.

That was a lie, though.

I booked a tiny house in Hilton Beach’s camping ground and planned to stay there for two weeks. I wanted to meet Caspian, but I would stay there no matter his reaction.

Hilton Beach seemed nice to sit and look at the water.

The drive took me almost an hour, with a short break at a gas station to buy myself a snack. Once I reached my destination, I drove by all the small houses to investigate the village before checking into my stay for the next two weeks.

I saw a general store on my way to the camping ground and decided to return once I got the keys to the house. I would come back to grab some food.

Theresa, who showed me the tiny house, looked nice but annoyed. I watched her for a while as she explained the hot water situation to me, and when her eyes met mine, she raised a brow with a questioning look. “Why are you here?”

I pursed my lips and shrugged. “Vacation?”

“Is that a question?”

“No, I’m here on vacation.”

“You’re a horrible liar.”

Rude.

But I couldn’t tell her the truth.

She probably knew about Caspian. I mean, why wouldn’t she know about him when he literally lived here?

Unless he didn’t, and the woman at the restaurant lied to me.

“Why are you here?”

Theresa asked again, her arms crossed over her chest.

Lie again and go ahead with my plan or tell the truth and possibly get kicked out of the village.

Hard choices.

I looked around the kitchen and living area before my eyes met hers again. “Does Caspian King live here?”

“Who are you?”

Damn.

One dry question after the other.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know him? Your last name is King. Do you know Caz?”

Caz.

Interesting.

Wait, so he is here, and she does know him.

And I didn’t even think of using a fake name to check in when I booked this place. Not that it would’ve worked, anyway.

I smiled tightly and crossed my arms loosely across my chest. “I’m his granddaughter.”

Theresa watched me closely, her opinion of me not changing. She didn’t like that I was here. But, hey, she couldn’t kick me out now. Besides, I paid for this place for the next fourteen days.

“Does he know you’re here?”

“Uh, no. And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t run to him and tell him.”

“Why not? I’m his friend. I should tell him.”

Damn you, Theresa, you old witch.

“Because I don’t think he even remembers that I exist.”

“Are you fucking with me, child?”

I would never, I gasped in my mind.

“No, Ma’am.”

“Why would you come here then? He’s a busy man.”

Busy?

Here?

In the middle of nowhere?”

“How busy? I thought he retired.”

“He did, but that doesn’t mean he—”

She stopped and held up a hand. “Why are you looking for him when he doesn’t even know you exist?”

“I want to see how he’s doing. Even if I haven’t ever seen him, he’s still family. And after everything that happened, I want to ensure he’s okay.”

“Hm. How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

She studied me again, her eyes wandering all over my face. She was trying to put the pieces together, to find something familiar in my features that might match her memory of Caspian.

Or Caz, as she called him.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she leaned against the small kitchen counter, still inspecting me like I was some kind of alien.

“You don’t look like him,”

she said as if that would decide my story’s legitimacy.

“Yeah, well, I take after my dad’s side of the family, I guess.”

Which I only assumed because I truly didn’t look like my mother. And I had no idea what my father looked like. “But my mom always said I had his stubborn streak.”

Theresa snorted. “That sounds about right.”

She paused, narrowing her eyes. “You said you have never met him. Why now? Why bother looking him up after all this time?”

I shifted uncomfortably. It was a good question, one I hadn’t fully answered for myself. I guess I just wanted to check on him, but I knew that reasoning wouldn’t be enough for her. “I just want to connect with my roots. With him. Family’s complicated, you know?”

Theresa’s expression softened ever so slightly, but her skepticism remained intact. “Complicated, huh?”

I nodded, unsure what else to say. She seemed to be weighing her next move, and I didn’t want to push her too hard in case she decided I wasn’t worth the trouble. Finally, she sighed and pushed herself off the counter.

“Look, kid, I don’t know what you’re expecting to find here, but Caz isn’t exactly a warm and fuzzy type. He’s…intense. And he’s got his reasons.”

“I’m not expecting a hug and a family photo,”

I said quickly. “I just want to see him. Talk to him. Maybe understand him a little better. I’ve only ever known what I’ve seen on TV of him.”

Theresa stared at me for another long moment, then shrugged. “Well, good luck with that.”

“Thanks,”

I said, trying to sound sincere. “For not kicking me out.”

“Don’t thank me yet,”

she muttered. “This might not end the way you think it will.”

She turned and left, leaving me alone in the tiny house. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and glanced around the space. It was small but cozy, with just enough room for a bed, a kitchenette, and a little seating area by the window.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, my mind racing. Caspian was here, somewhere in this village. The man who’d been a little more than a shadowy figure in my family’s history was suddenly within reach. But what would I say to him?

What if he didn’t want to see me?

What if he slammed the door in my face and told me to fuck off because he didn’t need family members to appear in his life out of the blue?

I rubbed my temples and sighed.

One thing was certain: I wasn’t leaving Hilton Beach without at least trying. Whether he liked it or not, I was here and wasn’t giving up that easily.