Chapter Fourteen
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Zarah
T oday’s packed, and it’s a nice change. I feel like I’m slowly getting my life back. I shower, do my hair and makeup, and choke down my medication while Ingrid watches. I dress in a pair of black leather leggings, a white and black blouse, and a black leather vest. I look cool, sophisticated. Like I could ride on the back of Gage’s motorcycle. If he had one. I try clipping my hair back, but I leave it down and add a brighter lipstick to my lips.
I have a session with Jerricka this morning, the last until after New Year’s, and against my better judgment, I accepted Willow’s invitation to lunch. She’s on house arrest, she explained, and can’t go out, but she would have a meal prepared. I’m curious what she has to say.
Yesterday, Lucille and I looked online and we chose a table that would fit in Gage’s kitchen. I hope he likes it. He said he did, but that would be a little white lie he’d tell me so I wouldn’t feel bad.
I didn’t have much else to do, so Ingrid and I helped Lucille bake and I took a short nap. Stella had a project due in one of her classes and spent all day on campus, and after seeing I was home safely (he was the one at the window), Zane locked himself in his study to work on a merger or something. He skipped dinner, and Stella and Lucille talked about one of Lucille’s charities.
Gage called while I was sleeping, but I didn’t want to seem needy and didn’t call him back, though I wanted to. I’m glad the table gave him an excuse to text me...and for me to invite myself over. I asked Lucille to fix a dish of lasagna to bring tonight for dinner, but I’ll text him first to be sure he likes it.
I push through the swinging doors of the kitchen and Zane and Stella look at me.
I did something wrong. I forgot the dogs were outside and they ran away, or I left water running in the bathtub and it overflowed. Forgot a load of clothes in the dryer and they caught on fire. They wouldn’t blame me if something like that happened, but they wouldn’t keep it from me. Jerricka’s been very clear communication must come first in all things. I won’t know what anyone is thinking or planning if no one tells me. Stella and Lucille are better about it than Zane is, and that might always be. I hope not. I hope once I’m off all the drugs and we can put what Ash did behind us, we can finally move on. Until then, I want Zane to treat me the way he did before, but he still handles me like a glass figurine that could break.
“What?” I ask, helping myself to coffee and coffeecake. “What did I do?”
“Nothing,” Stella says, stabbing a bite of cake on the plate in front of her. “We were busy yesterday and didn’t see you much. How did your date with Gage go?”
Zane clenches his jaw. He doesn’t like I’m seeing him.
“It was nice. We ate dinner at the Sweet Apple, and then we saw a movie. He brought me back to his place and he let me have the bed. Baby slept with me. He brought me home. The end.”
Stella playfully widens her eyes. “No hanky-panky?”
I shake my head. “No. Gage is a gentleman. I told him I’m not ready and he listened. I’m going over there again tonight,” I add casually. It’s difficult living with people who want to know your every move.
“No, you’re not.” Zane stands from the table and his chair screeches across the floor.
“Zane!” Stella says, frowning. “She’s free to do what she likes.”
“ No , she’s not. Until she can think for herself, she has no business spending the night with—”
“With whom?” I ask, standing from my seat, too, breakfast forgotten.
“Z, he wouldn’t have come around if Max hadn’t asked him to. Did you forget how he treated you at the memorial service? We were mourning Max, too. He died in my arms, and I’m supposed to shake that off?”
“This isn’t about you,” Stella says, rescuing me. “There’s no harm in them getting to know each other. We’re all adults here, and he must have treated her like a lady or she wouldn’t want to see him again. She’s been making great progress this past year, don’t stand in her way.”
I want to thank her for speaking up, but you know something? Zane’s right. If Max hadn’t been murdered and asked Gage to check on me, he wouldn’t have sought me out. When I paid my respects at Max’s memorial service, he hated me. What has changed since that night? Nothing. Him saving me from the paparazzi. A date where I couldn’t order my own coffee. What did I think I was doing? Making friends? Do I want to be his girlfriend? He’s not going to want a woman long-term who can’t have sex.
I’m colder than Elsa in Frozen . There are a ton of derogatory names for a woman like me. Frigid is only one of the nicer ones that come to mind.
“You’re right,” I say, surprising everyone in the kitchen.
“Zarah—” Stella starts.
I glance at her. “No, he’s right. I’ll tell him today there’s no point in us seeing each other anymore.” My heart breaks a little. He made me feel warm and safe, and I was starting to like that squishy feeling, even if I’m scared of it, too.
“Good. Tate’s been asking about you. If you want to date, I don’t mind, but choose someone who isn’t connected to that whole goddamned mess, will you?” He kisses Stella quickly on the mouth and grabs his briefcase off the floor. “I’ll be home for dinner.”
Stella waits until she hears the front door slam.“Don’t listen to him.”
Lucille looks at her out of the corners of her eyes, but she doesn’t say anything.
Full of dejection, I sit down, my shoulders slumping. My coffeecake no longer looks appealing, and my coffee is cold. “Why?” I ask dully. “He’s right.”
Stella sits next to me, and placing her hand on my cheek, turns my head, her gaze meeting mine. “No, he’s not. Zarah, if I listened to Zane, if I found someone who isn’t connected to this ‘whole goddamned mess’ I wouldn’t be here. I would have stayed in Florida with my parents, married one of their friends’ sons, or I would have started a life somewhere else with the money he gave me. After all that Zane did to me, after all he let Ash do to me because he wouldn’t listen, do you think he would have blamed me? Begged me to stay? Of course not. He feels guilty, and he’ll always feel guilty. You shouldn’t have to shoulder that guilt, and I’m not going to let you. If you like Gage, if he treats you well, then don’t listen to your brother. I’ll take care of it. Even if it means repeating some truths he doesn’t want to hear.”
“We only met because Max asked him to check on me,” I whisper.
“Yeah, and he waited a year to do it. It’s obvious he doesn’t think of you as an obligation or he would have done it the minute Max passed away, saw you were okay, and never looked back. But he didn’t.”
I shrug. There’s truth to what she’s saying, but what Zane said cut me to the quick. Can I heal properly if I’m involved with someone who will always remind me of what happened? “I don’t need to see him.”
“You don’t need him, but want, now that’s something different, huh?”
“He’s so nice, Stella. I don’t want him to have to wait for me.”
“Abused women can have healthy sexual relationships. You don’t have to jump into bed tonight, or tomorrow, or this week, or the next. Have fun . Kissing, snuggling. Foreplay.” She sighs. “I admit, he’ll need a lot of patience on his end, and he’s probably going to be giving himself handjobs in the shower—”
Lucille snorts a laugh, and I stifle a smile.
“—but if he cares about you, he’ll understand.”
“I guess so.”
“You know how we have a ‘tell everything’ rule here?”
I nod.
“You and Gage need that. You need to have open communication or you’ll get your wires crossed and you’ll get hurt, or you’ll hurt him and that will make you feel bad, too.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“Yeah, I know, but it’s important. If you can’t talk about it, you shouldn’t be thinking about doing it.”
“She’s right,” Lucille says. “If you’re going to start having sex, be smart. Ask him to wear a condom.”
Stella squeezes my hand. “When you’re ready, we’ll call and schedule you a doctor’s appointment for birth control, okay? A shot so you don’t have to remember a pill every day.”
I blow out a breath. I’m so scared of all this talk, but it’s exhilarating, too. I have control. I have power because Gage understands what Ash did to me and he told me whatever we do would always happen my way.
I sip my coffee to wet my mouth. “Do you think I would be over it if Ash hadn’t locked me up and drugged me?”
“Nope. What he did is going to be with you forever, so you might as well get used to that. I still have nightmares of him hitting me, of him trapping me in his building. Those things, those bad things, mold us and shape us into who we are. If Gage likes you now, it’s because those bad things are a part of you. If he ever falls in love with you, he’ll love all of you, just like I love all of Zane, even though he has bad things inside him.”
“Trust me, honey, we all have bad things inside us,” Lucille says, picking up our plates and scraping off the uneaten coffeecake. “You’ll find his.”
Leaning my head against Stella’s shoulder, I say, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Since you’re going out and about, I’m going to campus for a bit. Do you mind?”
“No. We can ride together. I’d like the company.”
“Okay. I need to run upstairs. I’ll be right back.”
Stella kisses my cheek, pushes through the kitchen doors, and they swing shut, hiding her as she walks down the hallway.
“She’s a smart one,” Lucille says, clearing my coffee mug off the table. “I know you got advice coming out your ears, but I’ll tell you one more thing. There’s no harm in going slow, having fun. Stella said it. Foreplay. But not just sex, you hear me, young lady? You have fun in this relationship you’re starting with your young man. He’s good people. I’ve seen that for myself. Let him show you a good time, in and out of bed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I shove on my boots and winter coat, my heart singing. I don’t want to push Gage aside because of his connection to Max, but a conversation about his brother couldn’t hurt. Clear the air. He must feel funny wanting to date me knowing Max and I had...something. I can’t say what. I was too drugged up to understand what we were doing or where he wanted us to go, but he made me feel safe at a time when I needed it, and that will always be important to me.
Stella and I chat about clothes and lingerie on the way to Jerricka’s office, and when Douglas drops me off in front of her building, I know exactly what I want to talk to her about.
Her receptionist shows me into her office, and Jerricka’s standing at the window waiting for me. “You’re looking well this morning, Zarah.”
She looks better, too, and I’m more comfortable. I don’t know what was wrong with her the other day, and I never got around to asking. The topics we covered didn’t leave room in my mind for anything else. She wouldn’t have told me anyway, she’s always been careful to keep her life private, but I relax despite not knowing. We’re back to the way things were.
“I have a couple of questions I want to ask you,” I say, shedding my coat and dropping my purse onto a chair neither of us sits on.
“First I want to apologize about our last session. I may have been too hard on you.”
Imagining Gage forcing himself on me and throwing up in her bathroom wasn’t one of my finer moments, and in a moment of clarity, I wonder if she did it on purpose. To prepare me in case I ever felt like I had to take my clothes off to keep him with me. We hadn’t had our date yet, he hadn’t given up his bed or held me while I had my panic attack. No matter how much he wants to have sex, I have a difficult time believing he would deliver that kind of ultimatum.
“It’s okay. No one said therapy is easy. I’m seeing him again tonight. I spent the night at his apartment a couple of days ago, and he slept on the couch. It was nice.”
Jerricka raises an eyebrow. “He didn’t try to initiate anything?” She sinks onto her side of the sofa, but after the hour-long ride into the city, I prefer to stand. I shuffle back and forth across her office.
“No. He lent me a t-shirt to sleep in, and he didn’t go into his room until he needed to wake me up the next morning.”
She notes something on her tablet. “When he didn’t indicate he wanted more, did it make you feel undesirable?”
I frown. “Should it have?”
“I’m asking you. Does he touch you in other ways?”
“He kisses me. Sometimes. I had a panic attack and he lifted my shirt and pressed his hand to my side.” I show her where. “It made him hard.” I blush.
“So he does want to be intimate with you,” Jerricka says.
“I guess.”
I hate hate hate talking about this. Sex is supposed to be between the two people who want to do it, and here I am talking about my sex life with Zane and Stella, Lucille, and now Jerricka, and even the conversations Gage and I have make me wiggle with shame. I’m not normal.
“How do you handle knowing that?”
“I feel good, as a woman, that he wants me, but I worry about what he’ll want to . . . do . . . to me.”
“If you’re having these reservations, do you think you may be jumping in too fast? Do you think you should date other people while you’re finding your footing in a new relationship and as a woman who has a history of sexual abuse?”
I narrow my eyes. “Did Zane call you this morning?”
“No. Why?”
“Because this sounds like the conversation we had at breakfast. He said if I want to date someone, I should look for a man not involved in the things that happened before.”
Jerricka purses her lips. “Who did you say this man is?”
“His name is Gage Davenport, and he’s Max’s half-brother. In his will, he asked Gage to check on me. He thought what the Blacks were doing to me wasn’t over yet.”
Jerricka sits up straighter. “That’s an unusual request.”
“Zane thinks we shouldn’t build a relationship on it.”
“What do you think?”
“Does it matter how two people meet?” That’s what I tell myself.
“How does Gage feel about the way you met?”
“We haven’t talked about it much. Max has been gone for over a year now. It doesn’t matter.”
“In this particular instance, maybe it doesn’t. You may not want to hear what Zane has to say, but you shouldn’t simply throw his opinion away. You’re struggling to recover from an abusive past and a situation where you were forced to live in isolation. That’s trauma. Investing all your time in one relationship may not be wise, Zarah, and latching on to someone because they’re safe can hurt you in the long run. You’re finding yourself for the first time in a long while, maybe ever. You grew up wealthy, a socialite in King’s Crossing. Unsure of your future, of what you wanted to do with your life, and that was before Ash sold you. There’s no harm in taking things slow. In fact, it’s smart, and your brother knows that.”
I wilt, and the resolve Stella gave me slips away. I see with Jerricka’s help where Zane was trying to lead me. I should date a myriad of men, have fun, like Lucille said, before attaching myself to one man, possibly for the rest of my life. “I understand.”
She tilts her head. “What, exactly, did Max think the Blacks wanted to do to you?”
“I don’t know. Every day Zane calls the prison where Ash and Clayton are locked up. Nothing bad has happened since they were arrested. I’m feeling better, stretching my wings. Zane and Stella aren’t tired of me living with them, and I like my walks in the woods. I’m doing okay.”
“That’s good to hear, and there’s one more thing we’re going to add to your treatment plan, to move things along even faster. I’m sure you like the sound of that. I’ve been in contact with Dr. Reagan, and Zane okayed this shift in direction. We’re going to put you on another medication. You’re at a point this drug will cut through some of the effects of what you’re still having to take.”
My heart sinks. “I don’t want it.”
Glancing at me, her eyes sharp, she says, “Unfortunately, if you want to keep progressing, you may not have a choice. This particular drug will help you think more clearly, speed up your recovery. It will be like giving Adderall to someone who has ADHD. You’ll have more focus, more direction, and it sounds like you need those things.”
She’s right, and I try not be offended. I’m still muddy in areas, and while I love spending time with Gage, my feelings confuse me. If this drug can lift some of this leftover fog, I should be grateful. I have people in my corner looking out for me, wanting me to succeed.
Jerricka stands from the couch and takes a brown prescription bottle out her desk drawer. She pops the top and hands me a small yellow pill.
“You want me to take it right now?” I ask.
“Yes. The sooner you start, the sooner it can work. Carry them in your purse and take one in the evening just before bed. Don’t combine it with the others—it works better on its own.”
“Okay.”
She pours me a glass of water, and I set the little pill onto my tongue. I’m used to swallowing so much medication I barely feel it slide down my throat.
Zane really is looking out for me, even if it is out of guilt. I shouldn’t be so hard on him, and I should tell him another date with Tate would be welcome even if I don’t want to go.
“At our next session, can we talk about dating? I don’t know where to meet men my age.”
She pats my shoulder. “I’d be happy to, but that’s easy enough. Go to school. Even if it’s just one class on campus, and then hang out in the student commons or the café. At first, you may have to initiate the conversations because people might feel too apprehensive to approach you, but that should change as you get to know other students and make friends. If you’re still uncomfortable with the idea, why don’t you volunteer at one of the charities you and your mother helped create? Like the animal shelter? You seem fond of dogs.”
“That’s a good idea. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Enjoy the holidays. I hope you and your family have something special planned. Don’t forget your medication. Our sessions will start up again after the first of the year.”
“Thank you. Happy holidays to you, too.”
I store the prescription bottle in my purse like she told me to and shrug into my coat. I have half an hour before I meet Willow, but Jerricka’s and my conversation about Gage disheartened me and I consider canceling our lunch.
I don’t want to let him go, even if I can understand that yes, in the long run, it might be good if I dated other people. We never said we would be exclusive, in fact, whenever we part, we never plan to see each other again, not like most couples, and maybe he’s not as invested in me as I am in him. It hurts my head, and my stomach churns.
I didn’t tell Zane and Stella about Willow’s lunch invitation, not even Jerricka who’s sworn to secrecy. I’ve shared enough of my life with people, and there are a few things, goddamn it, I want to keep to myself. A harmless lunch with Willow is one of them, and I do think it’s harmless. I don’t believe she was participating in anything her son and husband were doing, and even Stella said multiple times that if it weren’t for Willow turning the other way, she wouldn’t have been able to escape.
Instead of hailing a taxi, I walk to her apartment. It’s not that far from Jerricka’s office, and the crisp air clears my head. So far, the pill Jerricka forced on me hasn’t done anything, and maybe it will work behind the scenes, helping me think more clearly even if I don’t realize it. That would be nice. All the drugs I took at Quiet Meadows slammed into me the moment I swallowed them, and I felt like I was sleepwalking.
I reach her building ten minutes late, and I rush through the doors only for a man wearing a suit, earpiece, and holstered gun to stop me and demand identification. He gives off a dangerous vibe, similar to the days Hector followed me around, Ash always controlling everything I did. I don’t like it, and I swallow back my nausea. My jacket is too hot, and I can’t breathe.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, grappling at my purse. “I just need a minute.”
He waits patiently as I pull my wallet out of my purse, and my hand is shaking like crazy when I slide my state photo ID out of the plastic slot. He scans the barcode on the back with his phone and hands the card back to me. “Wade will escort you upstairs. Enjoy your visit.”
“Thanks.”
Another security guard approaches me, and calmer, I follow him to a bank of elevators. He stands on one side of the box, his hands clasped behind his back, and I stand on the other. His posture is relaxed, and I lean against the wall, suddenly tired and wishing I could go to sleep. My mental exhaustion turns into physical exhaustion, and on the days I see Jerricka, I tend to feel it in my bones. Instead of canceling on Willow, maybe I should put Gage off, but I need to talk to him. Lay out everything everyone told me today, and if he agrees, then tonight will be the last night I’ll see him. We can be friends, but that would be difficult and it wouldn’t be long before he started dating another woman, like Sierra, and forgets all about me.
I blink back tears.
Wade notices, but he’s trained not to say anything.
The elevator doors open onto a floor that surprisingly isn’t the penthouse. I would have thought Willow would be secured in the best of the best. Or maybe she’s tired of living in a shrine. I never liked the Blacks’ penthouse. It never felt like a home. Now I know why. It wasn’t one.
Wade raps sharply on the door, and Willow flings it open in a cloud of hellos and perfume.
The security guard moves aside, and I tentatively step into the small apartment.
I haven’t seen Willow since the night of Zane’s gala. She sat next to me during the fake speeches, holding my hand. She had always been a comfort to me, a steady presence, and I never once felt like I was in danger whenever I was around her.
She looks the same, a little worn, but who wouldn’t be after the year she’s had? Her son and husband will never see the light of day, and well, depending on how much the DA’s office finds against her, she may end up behind bars too. I don’t keep track of the DA’s progress, but they’ve been gathering evidence and sorting through all of what the Blacks have done over the years. They were involved in so much crap they could have been a mafia family.
“Zarah, you look gorgeous. Let me hang up your coat.”
I tug off my jacket and give her my purse. “Willow. I admit, your call came out of nowhere. How have you been?”
She looks at me and tentatively steps forward.
I don’t realize what’s happening until suddenly I’m in her arms and she’s hugging me. She’s the closest thing I have to a mother, and I rest my head on her shoulder.
“Ah, Zarah. I’ve missed you,” she murmurs into my hair, rubbing my back, and in her embrace, I forget her husband is the reason I’m an orphan. “Come, let’s go into the living room. Do you want a drink? It’s hard to believe you’re old enough, though it didn’t stop you before.”
She steps back and tries to smile.
“I can’t. I’m on too much medication.”
Her slight smile falls. “How careless of me. All I know is what I hear on the news. It’s difficult to sort out the real from the fake.”
I follow her into a little living area. The furniture is plush, and I recognize the work of the artists on the walls. She’s still living the billionaire lifestyle, albeit on a much smaller scale.
“I’m willing to bet anything they say about Clayton and Ash are true.” I sit in a corner of the couch and tuck my foot under my butt. Willow sits the middle, closer than I’d like, but I don’t get up and move.
“I hope you believe me when I tell you I had no idea what was happening.”
“You knew enough to let Stella go.”
“I knew she didn’t belong under our roof. I knew my son fabricated the story about her and that Italian prince, but you have to understand, my husband and son treated me like hired help. They didn’t include me in their business, legal or otherwise. I was a pretty face, an elegant woman, a decoration on my husband’s arm. Nothing more, nothing less. Clayton and I stopped having sex, stopped sharing a bedroom, after Ash was born. We weren’t like your parents.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. I saw letting Stella go as a means to an end, and she didn’t disappoint. Perhaps you can invite her for coffee one afternoon. I’d like to see her.”
“I’m not sure the feeling would be mutual. You don’t seem to understand the extent of the crimes your husband and son have committed.” Agitated, I stand from the sofa and tread lightly to the window. It’s a different view than what I’m treated to in Jerricka’s office, but it’s still spectacular.
Willow closes her eyes. “I don’t suppose I do, but I’ll be made to pay despite it, won’t I?”
“Did he ever love me?” I ask, the question popping out of my mouth unbidden. It doesn’t matter if Ash loved me or not, the things he did to me canceled out any feelings he might have had.
“Zarah, my parents arranged my marriage to Clayton. No one knows that. Everyone thinks we had a fairytale courtship that ended in a lovely wedding. My parents sold me, and Clayton treated me like anything a man can buy. Replaceable. Expendable. I’m lucky Ash was a boy. Had I birthed a girl, he would have killed me.” Willow leans forward and holds her head in her hands, gold bangles clinking down her arm.
It’s the most undone I’ve ever seen her, and my heart hurts for her.
She stands, cautiously approaches me, and rests her hand gently on my shoulder. “To answer your question, no, I don’t believe my son ever loved you. Clayton raised that boy to love no one but himself. I cared about you, Zarah, like I would have my own daughter. I hope you believe that.”
“Then why did you let them do what they did?”
Willow laughs bitterly. “Come now. You let him do what he did as well. Do you believe I had any more power than you?”
I sigh, knowing the truth. “No.”
“Thank you for admitting it. I tried to visit you at Quiet Meadows. They wouldn’t let me in.”
“They?”
“The staff. I could never get past the reception desk. It’s been one of my biggest regrets.”
I need all my control not to grab my coat and walk out. “Then we both owe Stella.”
A sad smile touches Willow’s mouth. “Probably more than you realize. I may be trapped in this tiny apartment, and I may do some time if the prosecutors can find something that will implicate me, but I’m free. You have no idea what that means to me.”
“No, I don’t, because I will never be free, Willow. I will always fear men touching me, I will always have nightmares of the nights Ash sold me. My mind may never be the same, even after I’m weaned off all the drugs Ash poisoned me with. Ash, your son , ruined my life. Your regrets don’t mean anything to me.”
She flinches.
I want to leave but my manners root me to the floor. Polite until the end. “Why did you invite me here? You didn’t want to tell me you were a victim. No one cares, and I have learned that for myself very well. What did you really have to say so you can put this away?”
A look I don’t like comes into her eyes, and she opens her mouth, but the shadows pass and she says, “For no reason other than to see you. I’ve issued invitations, but no one wants to have anything to do with me.”
I poke my tongue into my cheek. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Even if you feel the same, you’ve done me a kindness stopping by. Please, stay for lunch. I’ve put together salads and made raspberry lemonade. Then, if you never want to visit again, I’ll understand.”
We pass a surprisingly pleasant hour catching each other up on what’s been happening since the night at the governor’s mansion. They’d taken Willow into custody almost immediately and the only things keeping her out of prison are Stella’s testimony that Willow didn’t stop her from escaping Black Enterprises, a lie-detector test, and her very good, and very expensive, attorney.
She seems at peace, relaxed and happy. A change from the somber woman I remember, though my memory doesn’t offer me anything but glimmers and feelings, shades of the way Willow made me feel.
Loved. Like someone was watching out for me.
That was when I thought Willow would be my mother-in-law. Now there’s nothing connecting us but abuse and abandonment by the same men but in completely different ways.
“I didn’t tell anyone I was coming here,” I say, sliding my arms through my coat sleeves.
“Your brother wouldn’t approve. If this is going to cause trouble, you shouldn’t visit. I don’t want to complicate your life any more than it already is.”
I miss my old life. When I didn’t need to worry about anything but what dress to wear to what party. My life will never be that simple again, and I struggle to keep my past and present separate. My recovery depends on it. But sometimes I let myself sink into the years ago, and Willow is there, a constant presence after my parents were killed.
“I’ve been granted some free time,” I say. “I’ve been working hard, trying to find control in some areas of my life. I’ll try to visit next week, if I can get away.”
“That would be nice. You’ll be my only guest for the holidays, and your birthday is next week.”
Like Thanksgiving, Stella and I chose not to celebrate our birthdays. I don’t want to think of another year passed that I lost because of Ash, another year coming I won’t have because of Ash. Birthdays belong to people who are looking forward to the future, and I am not. Not in the way I should be.
“I’m not celebrating,” I say, my voice flat.
Willow nods. Locked in her tower, she didn’t celebrate hers, either.
We say goodbye, and she kisses my cheek.
Wade stood outside Willow’s door the entire time, and he escorts me down in the elevator and across the lobby. The security guard who scanned my ID notes how long my visit lasted, and he holds the door open as I step out onto the sidewalk. I text Douglas and ask him to meet me at Jerricka’s building, my secret tucked close to my heart.
I don’t notice the man filming me until Douglas helps me into the town car, and with fear lodged firmly in my throat, I wonder if he saw me walk out of Willow’s building.
I don’t have to wait long to find out.