Chapter Three
Linden
Well, it happened. I was asked- no, told to bring Avery to the Scott mansion for a big, elaborate party that we have no business at.
Her grandparents are the wealthiest people in Noddingbell. An anesthesiologist and a surgeon who know and are “friends” with every other wealthy person in the state.
Their estate is an elaborately maintained historic stone mansion. The landscaping is immaculate. The furniture was shipped from Italy.
They also have more staff than any hotel that I’ve ever been to, who wear crisp uniforms and don’t make eye contact with you unless they’re spoken to.
It bothers me to my core, and I make a point to make small talk any chance I get.
The Scotts probably pay them well, but that is as far as their humanity goes.
They insist on perfection.
I swear they only want Avery around for appearances’ sake, and it makes my skin crawl. Merrill always sends a new dress to the house for Avery to wear every time she visits, even though her closet is filled with dresses she’s worn once and fit just fine.
She tried to send me dresses too, but I put a stop to that in an instant. I don’t want her handouts. And I don’t want to be a part of her perfect image.
A simple black dress and the same black heels I wear for all nice occasions will suffice. My sandy brunette hair is pinned back at the nape of my neck, but I refuse to straighten away my liveliness.
My nonuniform waves aren’t meant for some formal updo, and a few loose curls have already escaped around my temples and down my cheeks. The look of disdain on Merrill’s face because of it brings me more joy than anything.
“Linden, I’d like you to meet someone,” Edmund, my former father-in-law, says from behind me.
We’re on the back terrace, aka their backyard, surrounded by at least one hundred people who are complete strangers to me. My glass of champagne is a placeholder in my hands while Avery dances around in circles on the makeshift dance floor in front of the string quartet.
I don’t drink around Avery, other than a few sips to ease some of the tension in my shoulders.
“I really shouldn’t leave Avery,” I tell him, barely sparing him a glance. Besides the salt-and-pepper hair, Turner resembles his father a lot.
“She’ll be fine. It’ll only take a moment,” he insists. He seems kind on the surface, but I’ve seen the malice behind his eyes. He hates that I was ever with his precious son.
But I have to play nice, or they’ll come after me with that vindictiveness they keep hidden so well.
“Just for a minute,” I agree, giving Avery one final glance.
He leads me over to a group of people who are standing further from the dance floor than I would like, but I do my best to keep an eye trained on Avery. She’s still twirling in circles in front of the violinist.
“Reginald, this is my granddaughter’s mother.” Don’t even give him my name, nice. “I wanted you to tell her all about the opportunities Glenwood Prep has to offer. Avery will be ready for school before we know it, and I want her to have the best education.”
My molars clench in my mouth at the ambush. He knows how I feel about sending Avery to a prep school.
She should start preschool next year, and after that, kindergarten. All of which will be at a public institution that I can afford. I am not getting trapped under their wallet for the next fifteen years.
The man in front of me starts his spiel before I even have a chance to respectfully decline, and I feel my blood pressure rising.
These pompous rich assholes. They think they can walk all over anyone who has less money than they do.
“I’m sorry, but I need to go check on my daughter. She doesn’t know anyone at the party,” I say pointedly, looking at Edmund. He hardly controls his jaw from locking in annoyance.
My head swivels, looking at the last spot I saw her, but she’s no longer on the dance floor. I shoulder through throngs of people, barely being polite about it, because I don’t really care what they think.
Until my eyes are on my daughter, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about these people.
I make it to a railing that overlooks the lower terrace level, and my breath catches. Avery is all the way past the patio full of people and on the pool deck.
It’s a brightly lit, turquoise blue, in-ground pool that probably looks wildly appealing to a child. Especially a little girl who doesn’t know how to swim.
I don’t hesitate, running as fast as I can to get to her. The lower part of the patio has more people mingling, though, and my shoves through the crowd are far from subtle.
One clear opening shows me just how close she is to the pool steps. “Avery!” I yell, but my voice is lost in the noise of conversation and live instruments.
I shoulder through a large group of men, ignoring their grunts of annoyance, but get a slight angle of an adult down by the pool near Avery.
Oh, thank God. No person in their right mind would let a little girl drown. I suck in a lungful of air but keep moving towards her with just a little less panic now.
My high-heels click across the paved surface around the pool, drawing the man’s attention towards me, where he squats in front of Avery at eye level.
He’s an unassuming guy, probably twice my age, but definitely clean-cut like the rest of the perfect partygoers.
“Thank you so much for coming down here. I lost sight of her and panicked when I saw her near the pool.”
“Not a problem. I figured she belonged to someone here. We were just chatting about mermaids.” His voice is calm, but there is a twinkle of charm in his eyes.
“Oh, perfect. One of her favorite subjects,” I chuckle politely, but stiffly. I am not interested in men’s charms. “Come on, Avery. It’s getting late. We need to get home and get to bed.”
“Otay, Mommy.” She skips around the pool to my side and grabs my outstretched hand. I bend to her level so she hears me clearly and knows I mean business.
“Don’t go by the pool alone anymore, okay?”
“But–”
I silence her with a look. “Pools are for buddies. You need a grownup.”
“Otay.”
“Go say bye to your grandparents. I’ll be right behind you.” I kiss her cheek and point her in the right direction before standing.
When I turn to thank the man for stepping in again, though, he’s gone. I do a slow circle, making sure that I’m not missing him, but I’m completely alone.
There is no clear way back to the party except for up these steps behind me. The only thing surrounding the pool area is a lush garden area, and trees older than the home that sits here.
It’s dark outside the perimeter of the pool deck, though, almost eerily so. I take a few hesitant steps towards the other side where I last saw him, and can’t make myself go any further.
It’s pitch black past the concrete walkway. I can’t see anything. Even if he just snuck away to take a leak behind the pool shed, I don’t want anything to do with that.
But for some reason, I can’t seem to look away from the depths of the blackness in front of me.
The longer that I look, the more each shadow has its own outline. Each tree and bush hides whatever is beyond them. And next to the small pool shed, just beside the thick garden area, is a shadow that resembles something all too familiar.
It’s like a nightmare you have as a kid…
You wake up seeing a monster standing in the corner of your room, and lose sleep staring at it until dawn creeps through your windows.
Only for the sun to illuminate the teddy bear wearing a cowboy hat, sitting on top of your laundry pile that you forgot to put away.
Except this shadow doesn’t look like a monster. It looks like a man.
A man staring directly back at me.
I don’t move. I don’t even blink, staring at the figure and waiting for it to reveal itself as a pool net.
But it doesn’t.
A spotlight turns on behind me, welcoming someone to make a speech on the band’s stage on the terrace, and that bright flash is all I get.
It’s not a man. It’s a soldier.
No… It’s not anything that resembles any color other than black, but he looks like a soldier nonetheless.
Disguised behind a black balaclava.
My heart heaves against my chest cavity as the small glimpse I have disappears in front of me.
The shadows return to pure blackness.
He’s gone.
But who..?
The mask only exposed a small strip of his eyes, and nothing else about the unknown identity.
Maybe he was security. The Scotts always have this place buzzing with security guards because they’re so wealthy and they don’t want anyone to forget it.
That’s it.
Has to be. Because what else makes sense?