Chapter 29
Elowen
I don’t get a single hour of uninterrupted sleep. I wake up feeling more exhausted than I was last night. After making myself look as good as possible, I head downstairs for breakfast with Mom and Dad.
I kiss each on the cheek and wish them good morning.
“What’s wrong?” Dad asks the moment I settle into my chair.
No matter how hard I try, it’s impossible to hide from his sharp eyes.
“Nothing.” I fix my brightest smile in place. “Just a headache.”
Mom frowns. “A headache? This early in the morning?”
I nod. “I think it’s because of the cold. I was out in the snow last night.”
She nods, but the frown stays.
“I was thinking... maybe I’ll stay here for the party?” I glance between them.
Dad and Uncle are hosting their quarterly party in nine days. If I stay, maybe I’ll see him again, like I did last night.
Mom smiles at the idea. “Why not?”
I turn to Dad. “Can you send someone to bring Rosie?”
He nods, smiling. “Of course, Princess.”
I grin and dig into my breakfast.
Rosie is with Ma and Pa, and they’re taking excellent care of her, but she’s still a baby and a little shy around them.
After breakfast, Dad pushes back from the table. “I have something to discuss with you. Come with me.”
I nod.
We leave the dining room and head to Mom’s indoor garden.
It’s made of glass, the fog outside visible through the walls, while the inside stays warm from the heating.
It’s not an artificial greenhouse like that place, it’s a convertible garden that can open its roof with the press of a button and seal itself just as quickly.
DC isn’t like that location, after all; plants can actually grow naturally here.
I arrived here the day before yesterday—just a day ahead of my concert. I don’t like this city. Truth be told, I don’t like any city.
For fourteen years, I lived with Mom, Dad, and Leo in San Diego, in our mansion on a hill, secluded from the city. My uncle’s house was on the nearby hill, so Avi and I always lived together.
After that, Mom, Dad, Uncle, and Aunt moved to D.C.
, and Avi and I went to live with Ma and Pa in their sprawling countryside farmhouse.
We call it our heaven. It’s so beautiful that I never want to leave.
After six years there, that place made me loathe everywhere else—anywhere I can hear the blare of horns or see the grey pall of pollution.
But my father’s house is equipped with air filters, and the indoor garden—spanning nearly a thousand square feet—was what convinced my mom to live here. She hates cities as much as I do. Actually, more. She spent twenty-one years in that heaven.
“Your mother talked about that man.” Dad begins, without preamble.
I glance at Mom, concern written across her face.
My gaze returns to Dad as he continues. “We don’t know him, Princess. The investigation suggests he may be the man all of Europe has been hunting for the past decade. If it turns out to be him, I won’t allow you anywhere near him.”
“What did he do that everyone’s looking for him?” I ask.
He strokes my hair. “That’s not something I want you to know.”
Which only means it’s something horrific—something my father believes will disturb my peace of mind. I can’t fathom that my captor could have done something like that.
Dad continues. “I can’t stop looking for him. It’s imperative we find him, to ensure he never harms you, Avi, or Alex.”
I reach for his hand. “Can you promise not to hurt him, even if you find him?”
He nods, rising. “That’s the only thing I can promise you. I won’t hurt him, but he will remain in prison.”
I give a small nod. Prison isn’t much better, but it’s better than death. It leaves a door open, there will be a chance for me to convince Dad to release him.
He strokes my hair one last time, then leaves.
“Maybe he isn’t the man your father thinks he is,” Mom says, her voice soft and calming.
I look at her.
She offers a small smile. “You always talked about falling for a nice man. Cold-hearted killers were never your type.”
I manage a strained chuckle. “Right.”
I know he’s capable of killing, he killed those men in his house. But isn’t that normal in Dad’s world? Dad himself has killed. So what could my kidnapper have done that even my father finds horrific?
I’ll ask Leo. He doesn’t give a damn about protecting my heart from the truth, he’ll tell me.
I take a deep breath and lean back into the couch.
“Look at those winter jasmines,” Mom says. “Aren’t they thriving this year?”
I can tell she’s trying to lift my mood, so I play along.
“Yeah. What did you feed them to make them glow like that?”
She smiles. “I changed the fertilizer formula.”
I hum thoughtfully, my gaze drifting across the garden.
“Mom, why don’t you put a piano in the garden?”
She hums thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea.”
“What’s not a bad idea?” Aunt Abi arrives, kissing my cheek. “You’re in the headlines, sweetheart. Such beautiful music you played yesterday.”
I smile. “Thanks, Aunt.”
She settles onto the single couch across from me.
“She’s asking about putting a piano in the garden,” Mom says, answering her earlier question.
Aunt chuckles. “And who, exactly, will play it?”
Mom laughs. “Why, you and me, of course.”
“And then we’ll be in the headlines for killing people with musical witchcraft.”
I snort, laughing.
“Did you have breakfast?” Mom asks her.
She nods. “We ate on the plane.”
She and Uncle Alex just returned from a business trip to Canada. She works as his assistant and manager, and she’s extraordinary at it. She’s practically a celebrity in the business management world. Her books and theories are required reading for every management student.
“I swear, Pheny, I’m never going anywhere with your brother again. That man has no sense of shame.” Her cheeks are flushed by the time she finishes.
Mom laughs. “What did he do now?”
“Yesterday’s meeting lasted six hours. I don’t know what gets into that man during long meetings, but by the time they end, he—” She pauses, glances at me, then clears her throat. “Never mind. He’s just shameless. And at his age, for God’s sake, he has a nineteen-year-old daughter.”
Mom doubles over, laughing.
I chuckle quietly. “I bet she has no problem with her dad being a little romantic.”
Aunt chuckles, then grows serious. “Wen, will you tell me something honestly?”
I know what she’s about to ask. And I have no intention of answering honestly. But I nod anyway.
“Is there something going on between Avi and Zo?”
I arrange my features into a look of surprise.
“No. Where did that come from?”
She looks at Mom, then back at me. “You suggested marrying Zo to Avi. And when we asked Zo about it, he gave us a very strange answer.”
I know exactly what that strange answer was. I was hiding with Avi, listening to their interrogation of him.
I chuckle. “I was just kidding.” I was not.
She doesn’t buy it. Neither does Mom.
“You can tell us, you know,” Mom offers gently.
“I know. But there’s really nothing to tell.”
She opens her mouth, but I’m already on my feet.
“Oh, I forgot to call Eda. She had some important questions before her media interviews. I’ll be right back.”
They both nod, their eyes narrowing.
The moment I’m out of earshot, Aunt sotto voce, “There’s definitely something.”
I reach my room and dial Avi.
“I’m still not over that lament,” she whines the instant she picks up.
“Let me give you something else to cry about.” I chuckle. “Your mother and mine are thoroughly convinced there’s something going on between you and Zo.”
“Holy shit.”
I move toward the balcony glass door. “But they really seem okay with the idea. I don’t know why.”
“It doesn’t matter. Daddy will never be okay with it, and there’s no way Mom won’t tell him the moment she’s sure.”
I hum.
“Forget that. Tell me, what made you play that piece that’s now in every news highlight?”
“My happy love life,” I say with a dry chuckle.
She sighs. “I don’t know how you’re joking about it. If it were me, you know where I’d be.”
I fix my gaze on the clear, bright sky outside. Snow blankets the earth, making everything glow. It’s a beautiful morning after a cold night.
“I know it’s not the end.”
It can’t be.
Around noon, when I come out after my shower, I see I’ve missed calls from Mom. As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I hear soft barking and sprint into the living room—where Mom is playing with Rosie.
She’s just four weeks old. A fluffy bundle of black and white.
“Oh, my sweet baby.” I scoop her into my arms.
She licks my face and neck, wriggling in my arms with excitement. I cover her in kisses, giggling.
“She’s really therapy,” Mom chuckles, patting her tiny head. “I’m going to adopt one for myself. Screw your father.”
I laugh.
“Has she eaten?” I ask Mom, glancing at the bowl on the mat.
“Yeah, but not much.”
I nuzzle Rosie's neck. “She doesn’t eat much.”
“Let’s take her shopping.” Mom suggests with excitement.
“Let’s go.”
We reach the pet shopping complex, a ten-minute drive from the house.
“Why is no one surprised to see a dozen men around us?” I ask Mom.
“Everyone here is used to it. This part of the city is full of elites.”
Rosie squirms in my arms, craning her neck to look at the other dogs and their humans.
Mom takes her from me. “She’s an active baby.” She kisses Rosie’s face.
We enter Fur Care, a store selling bathing and grooming products. With the help of an attendant, we pick out everything she’ll need. Then we head next door to a shop with an array of cozy dog bedding.
I spot a pale pink mattress and head toward it. Mom is examining a dark blue one nearby. I glance in her direction—and crash into someone.
“I’m so—” I look up, and the words wither in my throat.
Another hallucination?
No.
I’m not hallucinating. He’s here. Right in front of me again.
“Wen?” Mom appears at my side.
She eyes him, then whispers to me, “You know him?”
I shake my head before glancing back at him.
“I don’t know him,” I whisper.
She hums. He says nothing, simply walks around me and out of the store.
“That was strange,” she says, watching him go. “The way he was looking at you.”