Deadly Secrets

Chapter 7. A GHOST FROM THE PAST

(Sienna)

“I’m here, darling!” Sarah yelled from the foyer, dropping her luggage on the floor. I hurried downstairs and threw myself in her arms, all while Mrs. Bishop excused herself to give us some privacy. We stayed like that, holding each other for a few minutes. Sarah held my shoulders with her hands and took one step back to get a good look at me. Her brows furrowed slightly, and her eyes widened.

“You look like shit, Sienna.”

I’d lost some weight but didn’t think I looked that bad. Did I?

I stayed quiet, but tears stung my eyes. I hugged her back tightly, sobbing like a little girl. The pain in my chest consumed me. I knew this was bound to happen. I’d been holding my tears back for some time now, and it only took one look from Sarah to unleash everything I kept inside.

“Oh, it’s okay, Sienna. I’m here now. Everything will be alright, I promise,” Sarah murmured into my ear, her gentle touch gliding through my hair.

But I did feel alone. I only had my parents, and she lived across the world. I had a few friends at boarding school, but only a couple of them texted me when the news of the crash got to Europe. A text . They didn’t call. Ultimately, they turned out not to be the good friends I believed they were. But Sarah was here, and that was all that mattered.

When I composed myself, I showed Sarah to one of the guest rooms. She stopped in the middle of the hallway and exclaimed, “Hell no. I’m sleeping with you. I want to spend every minute of the day with you until I have to leave. Let’s go to your room,” she commanded, seizing my hand.

Sarah had always been extremely bossy. “I’m a type 8 in the enneagram, remember?” she frequently said as a way of justifying her don’t mess with me front and being a stubborn bitch.

She started unpacking her luggage in my room while telling me all about her new boyfriend, James, and her fantastic sex life. She was not leaving any tiny detail out of the conversation. I was so glad she came. She’d always been good at making me laugh. Sarah had a habit of bouncing from one guy to the next, and even though she seemed pretty into James, I could tell she was holding out for her next crush to come along.

“I’m sorry, Sienna. I’m being an insensitive bitch. Here I am, talking about my sex life after all you’ve been through in the past few weeks,” she said with a sad smile.

“I don’t mind. It helps distract me from all the noise in my head.” I bit my lower lip. “And not everything has been negative. Recall when I mentioned going out two days ago?”

She gave me a curious look.

“Don’t tell me you started using Bumble, Tinder, or any of those apps, Sienna.”

I glanced at the window and considered how much I wanted to tell her. I knew she wouldn’t judge me.

“I fucked a stranger in a bar. In the restroom, to be more specific.”

“SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP.” She let the three dresses she was holding fall to the floor, and with two quick leaps, she landed on my bed, on her knees, facing me as I reclined against the headboard. Her eyes widened, resembling those of an owl. “Sienna, I need you to fucking tell me all the details. I want to know everything. His name, how big his dick was, how many times he made you come, and when you are seeing him again. Was he good?”

I couldn’t hide my laugh. I loved Sarah. She lived for gossip and drama, but she usually had the juicier stories.

“His name is Zayn. I don’t know how old he is—maybe a couple of years older—I don’t know anything about him, and I don’t have his number. We met at a bar and talked for a while, then he followed me to the restroom,” I told her.

“I need more details, Sienna. Keep talking.”

“He fucked me against the wall. It wasn’t a quick fuck, but we couldn’t take our time, you know…we were in a public place. It probably was the best orgasm of my life. He knew what he was doing. And his voice…oh my God, his voice. I could have just come by how he said my name.”

I couldn’t get his voice out of my head, his mouth, the way he touched me.

Do you feel it? Do you feel how your pussy enjoys being destroyed by my cock?

The memory made me shiver.

“I initially regretted not asking him for his number, but he didn’t ask for mine either and left in a hurry…But anyway, I’m leaving for Stanford in less than two weeks, so I guess it worked out for the best.”

“I’m so jealous right now, Sienna. I can’t believe you fucked a stranger in a public restroom.”

“I know. The things one must do to entertain you.”

* * *

Sarah and I spent the following days shopping, exploring the city, and packing my things for Stanford. She also came with me to visit my family’s mausoleum so I could place some flowers in front of my parents’ crypt. My mother loved lilies, so we stopped at a local flower shop to buy a bouquet for her.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

The moving company was scheduled to collect all my boxes in just thirty minutes. We were set to catch a flight to San Francisco in the morning, and Sarah would be staying with me for a couple of days before her return to the UK on Saturday. The idea of her departure weighed heavily on me. It had been so lovely having her around that the prospect of putting thousands of miles between us left me with a heavy heart and a tight feeling in my chest.

“Not even remotely,” I replied, looking at everything on my bed. “Most of my stuff is in the boxes. I’m taking some clothes with me for a few days while I unpack everything, plus the laptop, my phone, chargers, toiletry bag, and makeup…”

“Condoms…”

“Sarah!” I shrieked. “Anyway, I have everything I need, plus my ID. I think I’m all set—not ready, but set. Have you finished packing?”

“I’m almost done. I only need to close this bloody suitcase.” Sarah was currently sitting on top of her suitcase and bouncing her ass up and down. She bought too many clothes during our shopping spree and couldn’t close her luggage.

The company arrived an hour later, and all my things were on their way to California. We spent our last night at Moore Manor gossiping and drinking wine. I can tell she was very excited about studying at Cambridge. She claimed that living at Christ’s College was the fulfillment of her Harry Potter childhood dreams.

“I’m a Dumblewhore who just needs to find the perfect wand,” she joked.

“Are you going to keep seeing James?”

“You know me. I don’t do long distance,” she said with a wink.

“Are you gonna tell him?” I asked.

“I’ll do it before I leave London. Gosh, I hope he doesn’t cry like the last one. Have you seen Jake since the funeral?”

Jake and Caroline had contacted me multiple times, but I’d been actively dodging their calls throughout the summer. In one of his recent texts, Jake told me he was heading Upstate for work until the end of the year and suggested we meet. However, I had isolated myself within the walls of Moore Manor ever since the funeral, and the thought of seeing them and potentially having an uncomfortable conversation weighed heavily on my mind.

“No, I haven’t. I’ve been ignoring his messages since the service,” I confessed.

“What a shame... He did seem like a good guy, but I understand.” Sarah sympathized.

“Yeah, I know, but I’ll be leaving soon, and the last thing I want is to add more complications to my already complex life,” I explained.

Little did I suspect that California had its own set of complications waiting for me.

* * *

Sarah left almost a week ago.

I’d almost finished unpacking, and after buying new furniture, my apartment at Aster Hall finally felt cozy. I liked my accommodation. Aster Hall was mixed-gender housing, and most units were one-bed apartments with an en suite bathroom. Each one had a small living room and a kitchen. I could afford to rent my own apartment, but then I would miss college life. I was so used to sharing space with other students at boarding school that I preferred seeing people my age rather than oldies with Chanel sunglasses holding Pomeranians in the elevator.

While my mood had certainly improved since Sarah arrived, I still cried myself to sleep almost every night. I was fully aware that I couldn’t continue down this road and began considering booking an appointment with a counselor or a therapist. The last thing I wanted was to fall into a depression.

It was Friday, and my classes wouldn’t start until Monday. My teachers had uploaded their syllabi on the intranet, so I made a list of the books I needed to buy and updated my Microsoft Outlook calendar with key dates and my weekly schedule. According to Google Maps, an academic text bookstore was in the area, just a ten-minute walk from my dorm. It seemed like a good idea to take a break from all the cleaning and organizing I’d done to leave the apartment and get some fresh air.

The moment I set foot in the bookstore, I knew I needed help. The store had multiple floors, and I couldn’t even see its full extent from my position by the counter. Realizing I wouldn’t locate the books on my list without some guidance, I approached one of their employees and asked for directions. He kindly pointed me to a section at the back of the store.

I was looking for a specific book on one of the shelves when someone spoke from behind me.

“Do you need any help?”

I spun around and was greeted by a guy flashing me a warm smile. Towering at an impressive height of around six-two, he appeared to be a giant compared to my five-four frame. He had Asian features, black hair, dark eyes, a cute nose, and perfect teeth. I smiled back at him.

“Yes, thank you. I’m looking for this book,” I said, pointing at my list. He looked at the piece of paper, and without hesitation, he extended his right arm and reached for a book behind me. His whole body practically pressed against mine, and I blushed. I took a step back, but I hit the bookshelf.

“Let me guess, you’re a freshman majoring in a science field?” he said, holding the book before me.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah, a little. I assumed, based on your list. My best friend is a sophomore majoring in bioengineering, and he had a similar list last year.”

Why is he so handsome, and why can’t I stop staring at his killer smile?

“Are you coming to the party tonight?” he asked me.

“What party?”

“Every year, all the seniors from economics organize a freshman party at Banbury Hall. It starts at ten o’clock. You have to come. If you don’t know anyone, you could look for me,” he said with a wink. “Give me your phone,” he demanded. “I’ll give you my number, and you can text me when you get there. By the way, my name is Noah. What’s your name?”

“Sienna,” I told him while handing him my phone.

“Nice to meet you, Sienna.”

While he typed his number, I observed him in more detail. His arms were well-defined under his white T-shirt. He had broad shoulders and strong hands. His hair looked messy but purposely messy, quite sexy, like just-got-fucked hair. I wasn’t a fool…great hair, a beautiful smile, good social skills, and that body…he was definitely a fuckboy, and I was his next victim.

“I’ve sent myself a text, so I have your number too. I’ll see you tonight.” We parted ways after he gave me back my phone and gifted me with another flirty smile. Once I exited the store, I looked down at my screen, noticing he’d saved his number as Noah and a heart emoji. He had already sent me a text.

Noah

I can’t wait to see you tonight. I hope you come ;)

I had the feeling that the text had a double meaning.

* * *

I didn’t know why I was so nervous. I’d changed my outfit twice before deciding on a sleek black knit dress with an open back that snugly embraced my figure, featuring a straight neckline and delicate straps. My hair was down with loose, beachy waves. I finished my look with natural but glossy makeup, my favorite Gucci T-Strap block heel sandals in black, and a small black leather hobo handbag. First impressions were always important, and I wanted to look my best to feel extra confident tonight.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but notice how much I looked like my mother. I guessed I had never stopped to think about it too much, but after my parents’ tragic death, all I could think about was the many moments like this one that I would have loved to share with her and get her advice. I stopped my train of thought, or I would otherwise ruin my makeup.

I left my apartment around ten-thirty with the goal of being fashionably late. It was a fifteen-minute walk from Aster Hall to Banbury Hall, so I took my AirPods out of my bag and played music from one of my Spotify playlists. “Beg for You” by Charli XCX feat. Rina Sawayama was playing when I arrived at the party—that song always put me in the right mood.

The place looked amazing, and it was packed. Balloons were everywhere, and disco lights illuminated the space. I could feel the music in my chest. The dance floor was full of students, and a huge sign said, “Welcome to Stanford.” Everyone seemed to be having a great time.

I wasn’t going to text Noah yet because I didn’t want to look desperate, so my best option was to get a drink. I made my way through the crowd and hit the bar, but as much as I tried to get the attention of any of the servers, none of them looked my way while I stood there waving my hand like an idiot. It looked like all of them ignored me on purpose.

“I think they proactively ignore you unless you have a dick between your legs. I’ve been standing here for five minutes longer than you, and nothing. That guy arrived one minute ago and is already holding a whiskey and Coke.”

The voice came from the girl standing to my right. She was slightly taller than me, with long blond hair, bright baby-blue eyes, and a doll’s face. She was stunning—showstopping pretty.

“HEY PRINCESS, CAN WE ORDER OUR DRINKS NOW?” she called out to a brunette server flirting with two guys. She was loud and reminded me of Sarah. I liked her already.

“I’m Sienna Moore. What’s your name?”

“Maggie Towerby. Nice to meet you, Sienna.” We shook hands.

When Maggie finally got our drinks—gin and tonic for me, of course, and rum and Coke for her—we headed to a place at the back of the party where we could talk.

“Are you a freshman, too?” Maggie asked.

“Yes. I arrived a few days ago. I haven’t done much aside from decorating my dorm. I’m staying at Aster Hall. And you?”

“I arrived two days ago. I’m at Greenhill Hall, which is the only one I could afford with my budget because I’m on a scholarship. It’s across campus, but it’s super nice and clean.”

“Wow! A scholarship. You must be super smart. That’s awesome,” I beamed.

We spent a good forty-five minutes talking about Stanford and the lives we just left behind. I didn’t tell her much because I didn’t want to kill the vibe with my drama, but I told her that I was from New York, that I was currently living at Aster Hall, and my major. Maggie mentioned that she was actually from Queens and a freshman pursuing a major in chemical engineering. Although we had different schedules with only one lecture in common, it was a relief to have at least a familiar face around on Wednesdays. The more we talked, the more I realized we had a lot of things in common. She was very easy to talk to. She was telling me all about her first couple of days at Stanford when I saw Noah approaching us. He wore blue jeans and a military green shirt; the sleeves were rolled up just below his elbows, showing off some muscle. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, and as he got closer to us, all I could think about was how much I wanted to thread my fingers through his just-got-fucked hair.

“Should I feel offended that you didn’t text me?” he mocked, placing his right hand on my exposed lower back and bringing his mouth to my ear. “You look fantastic, Sienna. I have been thinking about you the whole day.”

I felt my cheeks flush.

I didn’t know how to respond, so I opted for the easiest way out.

“This is Maggie; we’ve just met. Maggie, this is Noah…we met this morning at Bluebird Book Shop. He invited me to the party.”

From the moment I made the introduction, Maggie unleashed an unstoppable torrent of questions upon Noah. I knew nothing about him, so witnessing her intense questioning was an unexpected delight.

“So you’re originally from Chicago, but your mother was born and raised in Washington, and your dad is from Tokyo?” Maggie was on a mission.

“Yes, your honor,” Noah replied.

It seemed that love had blossomed between his parents during one of his father’s business trips to the United States, and the rest, as they say, was history. Noah, a sophomore, aspired to graduate with a political science major.

I smothered a few giggles at his uncomfortable expression. Clearly, he hadn’t anticipated such a thorough interrogation. Noah was funny and charming, cracking jokes and answering all of Maggie’s questions.

“Do you want to ask me about my favorite sex position too?”

I snorted, spitting out half of my drink through my nose.

Noah leaned in closer and whispered, “Do you find the question funny, princess? I hope you’re not too attached to this dress because before the night is over, I’m ripping it off you and bending you over. So yes, you’ve guessed right. Doggy style is my favorite position.”

My heart began to beat like crazy inside my chest, and all the blood from my body rushed to my face. The room suddenly felt too hot. Maggie noticed and frowned. I prayed she hadn’t heard what he’d said to me, but the subtle smirk beginning to form on her lips hinted that she might have an inkling. The three of us kept talking for about half an hour when Noah suddenly yelled at someone behind me.

“Hey, Ander! Come here, man. I want to introduce you to someone.”

I stiffened.

A wave of anxiety washed over me, and my breathing became uneven.

Ander.

It just couldn’t be. There must be a thousand Anders in the US , I told myself. I turned my head so fast that I thought I would get neck whiplash. Then our eyes locked, and the room started spinning. He WAS that Ander. My Ander . He was clearly not my Ander anymore. I last saw him six years ago, and we lost contact when I moved to Switzerland. I was twelve, and he was thirteen. We’d known each other since we were babies because his father, William Scott, and my father were partners at Cos Pharmaceuticals, but when my dad bought him out of the business, Ander and I stopped hanging out. I assumed something big had gone down between our parents, but whenever I asked my dad why I couldn’t hang out at Ander’s house anymore, he would say they had a fight and that it was grown-up stuff I shouldn’t worry about.

“Ander, let me introduce you to Maggie and—”

“Sienna.” Ander interrupted, finishing Noah’s sentence.

“Oh,” Noah exclaimed. “You already know her?” Noah looked surprised.

“Yes,” he snapped. Ander kept staring at me. I couldn’t read his facial expression, although one would say that he didn’t look happy to see me at all.

“Hi, Ander. I wasn’t expecting to find you here, but I’m glad to see you again.” I was being sincere. A part of me always missed him while I was growing up, all because of the stupid way we lost contact. I remembered it as if it was yesterday.

“Sienna, I don’t want you to see Ander anymore. You’re too young to understand. One day, I’ll explain everything to you, but for now, I forbid you to have any contact with any member of the Scott family. I’m dead serious.”

“You can’t stop me from seeing my best friend, Dad. I don’t know what his father did to you, but it’s not his fault!” I ran to my room and slammed the door shut.

The next thing I knew, my dad had enrolled me at Rubin American School. He said it was the best education he could provide for me, but I always suspected that my father just wanted to put miles between our friendship. There had been times when I was curious and checked his name online, but I never found him on social media. He didn’t look like the sweet boy I remembered, yet he looked like my Ander.

I need to stop calling him that in my head.

His dark blond hair was shorter, but his blue eyes could still pierce my soul like they did when I was twelve. Even now, I couldn’t shake off the effect his eyes had on me.

“I wish I could say the same.”

If the music hadn’t been that loud, everyone would have probably heard my heart breaking into a million pieces.

I knew we hadn’t talked or seen each other in a while, and it wasn’t like I expected a hug from him or something. But this? I never anticipated the hatred in his voice. Maybe he was resentful that I didn’t fight hard enough to stay friends, but he didn’t try to contact me all this time either. Life happened—our parents happened, actually—and we were just kids.

I felt tears at the edges of my eyes, so I stepped away without saying a single word. I didn’t want to burst into tears in front of them. I barely knew Noah and didn’t want to give Ander the satisfaction of seeing how his words had upset me. His intention was clearly to hurt my feelings. Much to my regret, he had succeeded. He looked and smelled like him, but he was definitely not my Ander anymore. That boy I remembered would never have treated me like that.

Just as I was about to leave the building, Maggie caught up with me and grabbed my arm.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I sniffed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stormed away without saying goodbye, but I couldn’t stay there for another second.”

“I understand. He was an asshole. Do you want me to walk you back to Aster Hall? I know I talk a lot, but I’m good at listening, too.” She gave me a kind smile.

“Thank you, but I prefer to be alone right now.”

Maggie looked disappointed, probably because her only friend was ditching the party.

“Do you wanna get some coffee tomorrow?” I asked.

Her face lit up.

“I’d love that. Do you want to go to Starbucks? I’m a pumpkin spice latte whore, and it’s been back on the menu since last Tuesday.”

I really liked this girl.