22. Conrad
CONRAD
I slept in miserable twenty-minute bursts between staring at the ceiling and replaying every second of yesterday until my brain felt liquified.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the man at Winnie’s cottage or the way she’d looked. Not to mention the way she’d shoved me into my car like she was trying to save me from something. Or someone.
By four in the morning, I’d convinced myself she was trapped in an abusive relationship.
By six, I’d decided I was being dramatic.
By seven-thirty, after my third cup of coffee and zero appetite, I was back to wanting to drive out there with a baseball bat and extremely limited legal foresight.
Greg had not been thrilled when I called to say I was staying home again.
“Conrad,” he said in the tone people used when they were trying not to sound annoyed while absolutely being annoyed, “the quarterly report still needs to be finalized.”
“It will be.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“And I meant it yesterday too.”
A long sigh crackled through the phone. “You’ve been distracted lately.”
He was right. A few months ago, I would’ve worked through a hurricane, food poisoning, and minor organ failure rather than missing office time. Now, I was pacing my kitchen because a woman who dressed in black from head-to-toe in ninety-degree weather had vanished from my life.
“I’ll have the report done tonight,” I promised.
“Fine. I don’t care where you work, as long as it gets done.”
The call ended. I stared at my reflection in the microwave door. I looked deeply unwell. The kids were also gutted by Winnie’s rash decision to quit, but I told them they needed to go to school anyway. I spent the day wandering aimlessly around the house, trying to make sense of Winnie’s absence.
When the kids got home from school, they were tense and easily upset. Bianca cried when I asked her to put her shoes by the front door instead of in the middle of the living room. I couldn’t remember the last time Bianca cried openly in front of her siblings.
None of us had really recovered from yesterday. Especially not Billie. She’d cried herself to sleep and had barely spoken to me that morning. That alone told me how deeply Winnie had worked her way into this family. I hated how empty the house felt without her.
The kids sat at the kitchen island, eating apple slices and peanut butter while I pretended to answer emails.
Then my phone rang. I glanced down automatically and froze.
Winnie.
My heart slammed against my rib cage so hard it genuinely hurt.
I answered immediately. “Winnie?”
The kids’ heads whipped toward me so fast it was honestly a little frightening.
Billie nearly fell off her stool trying to scramble closer. “Is it her?”
“Shh.”
I stood quickly and moved toward the living room, but the children followed like emotionally compromised ducklings.
“Hello, Conrad.”
Her tone stopped me cold. It was polite and controlled. There was no warmth or softness in her voice. It didn’t sound like her at all. Every instinct in my body started screaming immediately.
“Winnie, are you okay?”
A pause.
“Yes, of course.”
She was lying. I knew it instantly. It was the rhythm of her words. Like she was reciting something instead of speaking naturally.
“I’m very sorry about yesterday,” she continued. “I behaved abruptly and unprofessionally.”
The kids had gathered around me completely now, listening with huge eyes.
I moved toward the den for privacy. They followed anyway.
“Winnie, what’s going on?”
Another pause. “I had some difficulties involving the mixing of my personal and professional worlds.”
What the hell did that even mean? “Who was that guy?”
She sighed softly. “It’s a complicated matter.”
“Complicated how?”
“I do not think discussing it would be productive.”
My stomach tightened harder. Something was deeply wrong here.
“Winnie,” I said quietly, “if you need help?—”
“I do not.”
Her response was too fast, too automatic. And underneath it all, I detected a hint of fear. The kids exchanged looks. CJ’s face was as close as it could possibly be to mine as he strained to listen to the conversation.
I gripped the phone tighter. “You don’t sound like yourself.”
A shaky exhale came through the line. “Remember, a twist is only as good as its setup.”
CJ’s head whipped up. “Wait a minute.”
I held up a hand automatically to quiet him because right now I was hanging onto every word she said like it mattered more than oxygen.
“I know this is abrupt,” Winnie continued carefully. “I don’t want you to feel as though you were being set up.”
“What does that mean?”
Another silence stretched. I could practically hear her struggling to say whatever came next.
Finally, she responded. “I would like to have dinner with you and the children tonight.”
My heart stuttered. “Dinner?”
“Yes. I owe you all an apology for the abrupt termination of my employment.”
Employment. God, I hated hearing that word coming from her.
“And…” She hesitated. “I would also like to introduce you to my better half.”
Everything inside me dropped. Like an elevator cable snapping.
Better half. The phrase echoed unpleasantly around my skull. The man from yesterday flashed instantly through my mind. He was tall and creepy as hell.
“Oh.” That was all I managed.
The kids were staring at me openly now.
Billie mouthed: What happened?
I couldn’t answer her. I felt stupid. Embarrassingly stupid. Of course there was someone else. Winnie hadn’t been sitting around yearning tragically for me between gardening sessions and lunch prep.
She had a whole life outside this house. A boyfriend. Partner. Whatever horrifying gothic, crypt-keeper relationship that man qualified as. Meanwhile, I’d been mentally picking out honeymoon destinations because she laughed at my jokes and kissed me in my kitchen.
Fantastic. Just truly excellent work from me.
“Conrad?”
I realized dimly she’d asked me something. “Sorry?”
“Would dinner be acceptable? At your house?”
Every instinct screamed no. Absolutely not. Protect your dignity, Conrad. Fake your death. Move to another country.
Instead, I heard myself say, “Yeah. Of course.”
“Thank you.”
Another silence. Neither of us seemed willing to hang up.
Finally, she spoke softly. “I’m sorry.”
Then the line disconnected. I stared at my phone, moving numbly to the couch.
Billie climbed onto my lap. “What happened?”
I rubbed both hands over my face slowly. “She wants to have dinner tonight.”
“That’s good,” Billie said.
“No,” CJ said quietly.
We all looked at him. His notebook sat abandoned beside him on the couch cushion. He sat completely rigid, a grim shadow erasing every trace of light from his face. “That’s not good.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
CJ looked at Bianca, then at Billie. “There’s vampire drama happening.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I’m serious.”
“CJ, there’s no such thing as?—”
“She used the setup line,” he interrupted. “Something’s wrong.”
Bianca nodded. “She sounded scared.”
My headache started returning instantly. “Guys?—”
“She’s in danger,” CJ said flatly. “Like real danger.”
Billie gasped dramatically. “I knew it.”
I stared at all three of them. “What on God’s green earth are you all talking about?”
CJ frowned suddenly. “Wait.” He looked at Bianca. “Did Winnie never have the talk with him?”
Bianca’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”
I looked between them completely lost. “What talk?”
Nobody answered. Then Billie blurted, “Winnie’s a vampire.”
I stared at her. She stared back earnestly. Then I laughed. What else was I supposed to do with that sentence? “A vampire?”
“Yes.” Billie nodded.
“Like Dracula?” I asked.
Bianca crossed her arms. “She likes Dracula movies but says Bram Stoker was being extra.”
I looked to CJ, hoping he’d admit this was all one of his elaborate fibs.
“She’s definitely a vampire.”
My laugh died immediately. “What?”
CJ leaned forward urgently. “We saw her.”
My stomach tightened. “What do you mean you saw her?”
“The robbers,” Bianca said quickly. “The day they broke in. She fought them with her super vampire strength.”
“She beat the junk out of them,” Billie added proudly.
“And her fangs came out,” CJ finished. “She was considering drinking their blood to help with her burning skin from the sun.”
I stared at them. Nobody smiled. Nobody looked like they were joking.
“She admitted it to us afterward,” Bianca said quietly. “She said she was going to tell you herself.”
My brain genuinely stopped functioning for a second. “No. Guys, vampires aren’t real.”
“She sleeps in a coffin,” Billie informed me.
“What?”
“A casket. In her car,” Bianca clarified.
CJ nodded quickly. “She doesn’t eat food. Ever. Not really.”
“Her skin is always cold,” Billie added.
“And she doesn’t have a heartbeat,” CJ said.
Something inside me lurched violently. My mind immediately flashed through dozens of moments.
Her cold hands against my forehead when I was sick.
The way she never actually ate dinner. The car that looked a lot like a hearse.
The impossible strength when she’d shoved me into the vehicle yesterday.
The incredibly graceful way she moved sometimes?—
No.
Nope.
Absolutely not.
That was insane. Absolutely insane.
I looked at the kids desperately. “Did Winnie tell you to keep this secret from me?”
Bianca shook her head immediately. “She told us we shouldn’t lie to you.”
“She wanted to tell you herself,” CJ added. “We just didn’t know when.”
My pulse hammered painfully. “This isn’t funny.”
“We know,” Bianca whispered.
And then Billie—little chaotic Billie who exaggerated literally everything—started crying. “We swear,” she said brokenly. “We swear on Mommy’s grave.”
Silence crashed into the room. Nobody had ever sworn on Jade before.
CJ swallowed hard. “We’re telling the truth, Dad. And Winnie’s in trouble.”
My entire body suddenly went ice cold because I believed them. God help me, I believed them. Every horrifying little puzzle piece clicked into place all at once.
“What do we do?”