With trembling hands, I open it to the first page.
Inside is a small picture of the three of us she took with one of the instant print cameras she got for her birthday. Libby loved photography; it was something she always wanted to pursue but knew she would never have the chance.
Women are a bargaining chip to people like Elias. A commodity to be traded for the betterment of the family.
twenty-nine
I stare at the page, reading it again and again as I reaffirm what a selfish asshole I am. Neil is right. I haven’t been thinking of anyone else but myself. I’ve been blind to my sister all along, thinking she was nestled safely in the dark.
I was wrong, and I left her alone without anyone to turn to or rely on. Without anyone to share her secrets with.
Did her secret have to do with me not being Elias’s daughter? Had she always known we weren’t blood related? Not that it wasn’t too hard to see now that I look back on it. I don’t resemble Elias in the slightest. It was just another thing I let myself be blinded to, and I’m even sure why.
Not even Uncle Dante.
Dante knows I wasn’t Elias’s daughter. Did Libby think he didn’t know?
I read on.
thirty
If I wasn’t ugly crying before, I am now. For seventy-five entries, she poured her heart and soul into every word she wrote. She paid attention when no one, including me, thought she had a clue.
I give a watery laugh at how easily she became a viper in the grass. Anyone who looked at her would have thought her to be an airheaded heiress. Looks are deceiving.
Once I finished grieving, my tears drying on my cheeks, I sweep back over the entries, dog earing several pages that stand out. I thumb through the blank pages, searching in case I missed anything, when my eyes catch sight of several rows of dark scribbles.
thirty-one
14-3-1
19-1-7-2(3)
thirty-two
It is a code.
But what does it mean?
Sighing, I tuck the journal underneath my arm as I stand from the bed and make my way toward the door, grabbing her bottle of perfume along the way. I stop, taking a deep breath as I take one last long look around the room.
I miss her, but I will never, ever go a day without remembering her. And I will make sure Christian pays for what he did. I will find Kenzi, wherever she is, and make sure she is safe. That is my promise, because my sister’s death will not be in vain.
The soft click of the door signals an end. Tomorrow, after the gala, I will be sure to tell Vas what her journal says about him, but right now I need space as I continue to decipher what I have read.
Who is the man meeting with Elias?
Libby’s entry states he looks like me.The man with the cross cane.What does that even mean? Does he have a cane with a cross on it? What does the cross look like? What does he mean he sent a woman to deal with Elias’s obsession?
The only obsession I have ever known him to have is my mother. I always thought her death was the result of a home burglary gone wrong. The man who killed her confessed, but now that I am in this world and have seen first-hand the kind of power Elias held, I wonder if that had all been a setup.
Now that I think back on it, I was never given up to social services. The CPS worker on the case place gave me directly to Elias without checking anything.
The fucker was on his payroll.
And what is The Chameleon Agency?
Do they have something to do with Kenzi’s disappearance?
