“Loving her makes me honest.” My hand found the doorframe before I knew I was moving. “You want me to stay out of things and away from Mila because you’re realizing that I won’t pretend anymore.”
“You want to throw yourself into ruin and call it principle.” His voice leveled, flat again. “Fine. But don’t expect me—or this family—to carry the cost.”
I turned the knob. The brass felt cold under my palm. Leaving his office was the only answer he’d get tonight.
The hall stretched bright and empty. My reflection walked with me across dark glass—taller, older, more tired than I’d been this morning when I stuck myself between Mila and a room full of knives. In the kitchen, the under-cabinet lights illuminated the granite in soft strips. I took a glass from the cabinet intent on filling it up but just stood there doing nothing instead.
Of everyone I shouldn’t talk to tonight, she was the one I wanted to more than anything. I pulled my phone out and opened our text thread. The tightness in my chest didn’t ease as my thumb hovered over the message box.
Loving her was the only thing that made me see straight. It was honesty, and I’d burn down every polished lie in this house before I gave it up.
Footsteps came behind me. I gripped the phone too tight and shoved it behind my back. But it wasn’t my father. The steps were lighter.
Drew leaned a shoulder into the door jamb, watching me finish the glass.
“So that mess happened,” he said. “I overheard some of it.”
“Walked right into it.” I set the glass down. “He checked my accounts while he was at it.”
Drew didn’t flinch. “And you’re surprised?”
“No.”
He stepped closer, voice low. “Protect yourself. Don’t let Mila be the reason you go down.”
The instinct to bristle hit, but I swallowed it. “She’s not dragging me anywhere.”
“Doesn’t matter how it starts,” he said. “If you’re standing too close when it blows, you’ll take the hit too.” He held my stare. “If you need to worry about someone, don’t start with Dad.”
A beat. “Who then?”
“Lorne.” The name landed hard. “He fixes problems. He doesn’t hesitate. And he thinks protecting us means cutting out anyone who dents the family.”
Mila’s mother with a hammer in her kitchen. Darren’s clean ledger. Elise smiling onstage, carving with a phone. My father forbidding me to have anything to do with Mila.
“Did Lorne do something to Darren Langley?” I asked, knowing I wouldn’t get the answer.
Drew’s mouth thinned. “If he did, you’ll only hear about it when it serves someone else. Don’t be the last to know.”
“I hired the PI to make sure I’m not.”
“That’ll get you facts.” Drew pushed off the counter. “Don’t confuse them for the whole truth.”
My jaw ached. “Truth is the only thing I’m after.”
“Good.” His eyes flicked toward the study. “I’m on your side. Just…don’t burn yourself down chasing the truth.”
We stood in the kitchen. Drew looked older, not in his face but in the way his shoulders carried weight. He tried to be the polish to Dad’s force. Tonight, the polish had worn thin.
“I’m not leaving her,” I said.
His eyes sharpened. “Then don’t give Lorne a reason to make her a problem.”
“Meaning.”
“Don’t keep evidence on you. Don’t let the wrong people hear what you’re digging for. Don’t give Elise fuel she can spin. Keep yourself clean enough they can’t move against you.” He paused. “And the best thing you could do for her—the only thing? Stay away. At least for now.”
Anger hit hot, sharp. “That’s not happening.”
