Chapter 17
17
CATHERINE
I don’t think my sisters mean to take me away from Jacob and everybody else. At first, I think it’s just about going somewhere quieter because we can’t stop talking to each other.
The wedding was such an emergency, and it came out of nowhere, so we were focused. We didn’t have time for much sisterly bonding. We couldn’t be sneaking off constantly to tell each other secrets.
It must be an old instinct to go upstairs, away from the others. It’s what we used to do in our parents’ house, although this time it’s not us against our terrible father. As we tiptoe up the stairs, whispering to each other for no reason, it feels like us against the world.
Maybe that’s why we head for Elise’s room and make a blanket fort on the far side of the bed, with pillows stacked on the outer edges and an app on Lydia’s phone giving us faux firelight. It reminds me of the flameless candles on the island, only this blanket fort feels much safer.
Elise sits on my left side, and Lydia sits on my right. They sling their arms around my shoulders, and when they lean their heads on mine, I could be nine years old again. Except not quite, because when I was nine I didn’t really understand how easily I could lose my sisters. I still thought our lives would turn out like a fairy tale. We’d survive the evil father and the terrified mother, and one day a prince would come and whisk us all away to a shining palace where no one would ever hurt us again.
That turned out to be…kind of true, if you think about it. But not until Elise whisked herself away, and I spent years resenting her for that. And not until Gabriel found her, and she found the real Gabriel—the one who had survived the worst of his childhood and needed someone to show him that he could be…
Himself.
And not until Gabriel and Elise sent Jacob to whisk me away from the evil king. He took me back to his penthouse palace and treated me like a queen.
How did I not see that? How did I not see everything ?
“God,” Lydia says. “I can’t believe you’re alive. Like, I knew you wouldn’t just roll over and give up, because you’re you ? — ”
I let out an ugly snort. “Because I’m me ?”
“Um, yes , Catherine, because you’re you. You’re beautiful and stubborn and smart and my sister, so I knew you’d fight.”
Tears sting the corners of my eyes. I try to smile through them. “You’re confusing me with somebody else. I don’t even have a passionate hobby. I got stuck in the mummy room at the museum.”
“There was a museum on the island?” Lydia squeaks. “With mummies?”
“No. This was before, at the British Museum.” My face gets hot, and a single tear slides down my cheek. Why do I always feel things so late ? Why am I always surprised to find out that I miss my sisters? Shouldn’t I just know that automatically? “It was before the whole horse incident.”
“Oh,” Lydia says slowly. “Part of your hobby search?”
“Yeah.”
I remember her saying You have hobbies. You’re interesting.
And I remember that, between the three of us, we couldn’t name a single interesting hobby of mine.
Lydia clears her throat. “The plane wasn’t part of that, was it?”
“No. That was because I thought Jacob was taking me on a surprise honeymoon. He forgot to bring me with him when he left the hotel. Or—I thought he forgot to bring me with him. So I followed him to the airstrip and hid on the plane.”
“You’re so cool,” Lydia breathes.
“Lydia. He was trying to leave me behind so he could fake his own death. That’s why he left Gabriel that letter. He wanted me to think I was dead. I looked like a fool.”
“He doesn’t think that anymore, does he?” Elise’s tone is extremely neutral, which means she’s willing to beat Jacob up for me. She would, too. After Jacob rescued me from my parents’ house, Elise stormed into his penthouse and said she’d kill him if he hurt me. She said other things, too.
“No! We talked about it. I told him that was not a solution.”
“Good.” Elise rubs my arm, her hand moving slowly up and down. “We tried to find out where you’d gone. It took so long to find the plane in the first place, and then there was some data, but we couldn’t tell if it had landed in the water or heat. And then the signal stopped.”
“That’s probably because the plane blew up.”
Lydia gasps.
“After we had, like, de-boarded.”
“So you just had to, like, survive on some random island? By yourselves? With nothing ?”
“We had our bags.” I feel compelled to say this. It wasn’t nothing. I wasn’t the heroine who ripped my dress into strips to make a rope and construct a raft. “And we had, like, two steak knives. And we found a cabin that had running water.”
Elise, my genius sister, lets out a low whistle. “You found a cabin with running water. What are the odds?”
“I don’t know. You’re the math person. You tell me.”
“They can’t have been good.” She shudders. “And the creatures on the island had to be?—”
“There weren’t many of them. Something scratched at the cabin door, but I never saw what it was. And the cabin was nice. It didn’t have anything living in it.”
“But you were surrounded!” Elise stops rubbing my arm and just holds on tight. “You were literally surrounded.”
“With trees.”
“No!” Lydia cries. “With poisonous snakes! And poisonous insects! And?—”
I cover my ears. “I didn’t see any poisonous insects,” I say loudly. “It’s better if I don’t think about them.”
“You had to be so brave,” Lydia answers, just as loudly. “I’d have lost my shit.”
“Lydia,” says Elise.
“I would have lost my mind ,” Lydia corrects. “Even knowing all that stuff was out there.”
“I couldn’t think about anything but Jacob.”
“Ugh.” Elise gives me another hug. “I’m so sorry we weren’t there.”
“All of this started in London, anyway. You couldn’t have been there. You guys have lives.”
“Well, that’s not an excuse.” Elise sits up straighter next to me. She smells like sugar and almonds and cake fresh out of the oven. “We need to be there for you. However you need us to be. This whole—” She waves a hand in the air. “—transatlantic thing can’t stop us from doing what’s right. We can’t go on this way.”
“What if she wants it to go on this way?” Lydia asks from my other side. “Maybe she and Jacob are, like, blissfully happy in London as long as there’s not some creepy guy trying to freak them out.”
My emotions all spill out of the hidden pocket in my imaginary bag. I keep thinking that tiny space is enough to keep them out of sight, but it’s not.
“I don’t think—oh, damn.” More tears. The ache in my chest comes roaring back, and it’s hard to breathe, and it’s stunning, honestly, how fine I can be seconds before it all comes crashing down.
My sisters hold me and wipe away my tears until I can breathe again.
“Is it the ordeal?” Lydia brushes away one more tear with a tissue. “Because if it is, we can talk about it. And if you murdered somebody, it’s, like, totally okay.”
“I didn’t. Jacob did, though. The pilot—” I shake my head. “It was very fucked up. And Jacob isn’t taking it well.”
Lydia nods solemnly. A noise rises from the first floor. It’s clearly Jacob, crying.
My sisters and I exchange a look.
“It’s, like, really bad.” It feels like such a shameful thing to say, even though I know it’s not. “I think it’s been bad for a long time. I think he might need more than just me.”
My heart pounds. How is this as scary as a plane crash? I never wanted my sisters to worry about me. I wanted them to think my life was perfect. In lots of ways, it was. I’ve been happier with Jacob than I ever was at home.
“I’m worried that I’m betraying him by saying this to you.” It comes out in a rush. “I’m worried you’ll think I’m hiding something sinister about him, but I’m not. I swear I’m not.”
There’s a silence. Oh my God. Is one of my sisters going to confess that they always thought there was something sinister about Jacob?
“Catherine.” Elise’s voice is warm and gentle and stoic in an older-sister way. “I would never want you to think—” Her arm tightens around me. “I know you can take care of yourself, and I know you can take care of Jacob. But sometimes people need help.” Another pause. “I think you’re right. I think Jacob needs to have family around him, and I think you do. You’ve been brave and strong for a long time, and I’m—I’m very proud of you.”
“You shouldn’t be.” I’m going to cry again. “Because when we were on the plane, I thought Jacob was—I thought he was my passionate hobby. Because I don’t want to do anything without him. I want to decide things together. And that’s the opposite of everything I stand for. It makes me like Mom.”
“No way. ” There’s steel in Lydia’s voice. “If anything, Mom wishes she was like you. She never gave herself time to find out what she liked, and she stayed with a man who was never going to let her. It’s—” Lydia falters. “It’s okay to be in love. It’s okay to be passionate about someone.”
“That’s right,” Elise says.
“I am passionate. And I’m scared. I missed all the signs when we were in London. What if I miss them again? What if I really am as na?ve as everybody thinks?”
“You’re not.” Elise is so confident that it must be true. “We’ll be here for you however you want, Catherine. If you decide to go back to London, just the two of you, then we’ll support you from here. I won’t try to stop you.”
It feels like she’s leaving something out.
“ You won’t try to stop us. Are you implying that Gabriel would?”
My older sister laughs. “He might try to stop you, yes. And his siblings might help him. He’s really worried about Jacob. He’s been sick over it since he got that letter. We all want to make sure you’re both all right before we send you across the ocean again.”
I imagine what it would be like to get on a plane and leave my sisters behind.
No. I can’t do it.
“I might not actually be that fine,” I admit. “I might sob for, like, a month.”
“Someone very wise once told me about the duality of life,” Lydia intones. “Sometimes you’re on top of the world. Other times, you’re in a plane crash.”
“I didn’t say that. I was talking about Elise being upset because of the murder thing.”
“I thought we agreed that wasn’t full murder,” says Elise.
“Sorry. The partial murder.”
“It was a full plane crash, though.” Lydia sighs. “The duality of life.”
Plane crashes aren’t funny, but the duality of life strikes me as hilarious. We all laugh about it and keep laughing.
When the giggles taper off, Elise pats my arm. “You don’t have to move here permanently. You and Jacob don’t even have to stay here if this isn’t the right place to recover. It’s whatever works best for you. There’s nothing to prove.”
Could my heart stop aching for, like, one second?
“I didn’t know I wanted this,” I say around the lump in my throat. “I didn’t know I was allowed to want to come home. I feel like I should have known that before now.”
“You know now.” Elise kisses the top of my head. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, okay? Our parents set a pretty poor example. But we can make our own example now.”
“You’re so inspiring.” Lydia sounds like she might cry, too. “You guys are my idols. I hope I can be like you when I grow up.”
“You can’t. I refuse to let you get in any plane crashes.”
“Fine. I won’t get in any plane crashes. But I think you should tell us the whole story now. Like, all the details.”
I take a deep breath. “Some parts of it are supposed to be top secret. I’m not supposed to tell anyone. Not even Snowball.”
A pause.
“You don’t have to tell us anything you’re not comfortable with,” Elise says. “We’ll respect?—”
Lydia scoffs. “Um, what? Yes, you do. Keeping secrets is what sisters are for. And we’re yours. So tell us.”
A weight lifts off my shoulders. Is that…joy? Relief? Both?
“Okay.” I missed my sisters so much. “Well, first, I thought there was going to be a surprise honeymoon, so I?—”
My sisters listen with rapt attention. Mid-story, I realize that moving to London was definitely the right choice at the time. Jacob and I both needed some breathing room.
But keeping that ocean between us and our family—keeping ourselves isolated—that was something my dad would’ve liked. He’d want us to be alone and afraid. He got to a lot of people that way, including Raymond Harris, who obviously didn’t have anyone to go to. If he had, maybe all of this would have been different.
I finish the story by telling them about the secret base that they can never, ever mention to anyone else.
“What the fuck,” Lydia whispers.
“Lydia,” Elise scolds gently.
“What the hell .”
“Yeah,” I say.
“Do you think it’s one of those government organizations? Or even more powerful people?”
“I have no idea.”
Footsteps move down the hallway, along with soft voices. A minute later, there’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Elise calls.
The door opens. “It’s me.” Gabriel. “Did you…build a fort?”
“Yes,” Elise answers, a smile in her voice.
“Okay.” There’s a smile in Gabriel’s voice, too. “Jacob is asleep in the guest bedroom. I wanted to let you know. Catherine—could I borrow you for a minute?”
The world outside the blanket fort isn’t quite as hot, but it’s warm. Oh— that’s what a family is supposed to be like. I’m having a lot of late-in-life realizations.
I follow Gabriel downstairs. Mason and Charlotte and Jameson and Lily and Remy and Robin have congregated in the kitchen. I think they’re talking about dinner, or maybe dessert.
Gabriel has a photo album tucked under one arm. He takes a seat on the couch, pats the spot next to him, and balances the album on his lap.
“This can wait,” he says, glancing down at it. “If you’re not feeling up to talking.”
“I’m okay. I’m going to be okay. What did you want to talk about?”
He lets out a breath. “I understand Jacob got some medical attention before you flew back. He mentioned a secret hospital.”
“ Very secret. You can’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t. But this—” He taps the album with his fingertips. “This is something I think you need to know.”
“Okay?”
Gabriel opens the album and flips through the pages, then moves the album over so I can see the photos. It’s a two-page spread. Sunny weather. Big smiles.
“These were taken at one of Jacob’s show-jumping events. If he was staying over when one was scheduled, we’d all go.”
There’s a collection of photos of Jacob riding horses, looking young and gorgeous, his posture perfect, his clothes flawless.
“By then, I knew he struggled with eating.” Gabriel draws my attention to a photo in the lower left-hand corner. It’s Gabriel and Jacob together near a fence, various equestrian stuff in the background, Jacob’s arm slung across Gabriel’s shoulders.
“He looks…okay?”
“Yeah.”
Gabriel flips a few more pages, revealing another collection of photos from what must have been a similar tournament.
The difference between these photos and the first is stark. Gabriel looks mostly the same—dark hair? Big smile, color in his cheeks—but Jacob…
I touch his hollow, pale face in the nearest photo. “Oh, that’s—that’s?—”
The ache in my chest isn’t an ache. It’s an actual breaking sensation. My heart breaks for the Jacob in these photos, and for the man sleeping in the guest room.
“I know.” Gabriel covers my hand with his. “I don’t want to overstep. I promise I don’t.”
“He never said anything about this. Not once. And we were—it was obvious he hadn’t been eating when we were at the base. He wasn’t well at all. But he never told me.”
“He’s never liked to talk about it.” Gabriel watches me, worry in his eyes. “It’s not you, Catherine.”
“How, though?” I’m younger than Jacob. I don’t have a passionate hobby that would give me special skills to help him. Confused fear sloshes all over me on a delay. “Why wouldn’t he want to tell me if it could happen again.”
“Because he loves you too much.” Gabriel meets my eyes. “He wants to show you the perfect parts of him. Not the parts you’d worry over. And this stuff—” He rests his hand on one of the photos of the two of them. Jacob’s helmet dangles from Gabriel’s fingers, and they’re laughing. “These are old habits. It’s what he does when he feels shitty about himself. And he always tries to hide it as long as he can.”
“He’s good at it.”
“Unfortunately, he’s very good at it. That’s why it’s so hard to help him.”
The air in the room doesn’t seem like it’ll be enough to keep me alive. I pretend I’m in a yoga class and take three slow, deep breaths.
“Do you really want us to stay? I don’t want to, like, intrude. Any more than we already have.”
“You’re not intruding. You’re staying with family during a difficult time.”
I wave this off, trying to be funny. “What’s—” Of course it’s not going to work. Gabriel’s living room blurs through a fresh wave of tears. “What’s one little plane crash?”
Gabriel tips his head back and gazes at the ceiling, then drops his chin back down and looks me in the eyes. He’s wearing the most serious expression I’ve seen on him, and there have been serious times in the past couple of years.
“Has anyone told you that you and Jacob are perfect for each other?”
“They must have.” I blink away the tears. At least—I try to blink them away. “Because we make such a great couple.”
“There’s a great couple, and then there’s the two of you.” He huffs, an exasperated smile on his face. “Jesus, bail us out on this one.”
Jameson pokes his head in the living room door, holding a very awake and alert Robin in his hands like a miniature airplane. “Did you call for me, loverboy?”
Gabriel collapses onto the sofa and closes his eyes.
“Blessed,” Jameson proclaims, then zooms Robin backward out the door.