A huge lake appears to our right, and she switches places with me so she’s on that side of the path. After Finley drowned, Zachary filled in the pool at the family mansion and turned it into a field of wisteria, the child’s favorite. After I moved in with the Obermans, I discovered that I’m highly allergic to wisteria. But Zachary gave me medication and instructed me not to mention it to Sherry, since it’d only distress her.
“This looks dangerous,” Sherry says. “Do you want to turn back?”
I don’t tell her I can swim, since Finn isn’t supposed to be able to swim. “No. It’s okay.” Turning back would mean possibly running into Aaron, and I don’t want to deal with his hostility. “Let’s walk a little more. I won’t trip and fall. I promise.” I give her a reassuring smile.
She looks at me for a moment, then finally nods. “True. You’re older now.”
We walk along the lake, the cool breeze toying with our hair. I don’t say much, just listen to Sherry’s gossip about the people in her social circle. It’s amazingly wide, and includes the Huxleys. “Your father hired Bryce Huxley to take care of the estate. Can you believe it? He used to be so little. He’d come by to play when you two were young and toddling around.” She laughs, apparently oblivious to the tension gripping me.
Bryce. My heart clenches with pain, but I force a smile. He never came by after I was adopted, so the playtime must have been with Finley. Sherry gets confused sometimes, especially when she’s going through an emotional upheaval.
When I met Bryce at Harvard ten years ago, during our sophomore year, he was amazing—made me feel seen—but then overnight he began to hate me, and with good reason.
If you clarify—
What? That I was being blackmailed? Then I have to tell him what I was being blackmailed with. And deal with all the consequent ugliness.There’s no evidence, and he would never believe me. He judged me back then, but when I finally offered to explain before leaving for Wisconsin, he texted that I was dead to him. He wouldn’t be any different now.
My breathing starts to hitch. I close my eyes and inhale deeply.Don’t think about that chapter of your life. It’s over.
“Huh. Look at the two of you. Strolling along like you got nothing to worry about.”
I open my eyes and look at a couple of men in front of us. They’re in black suits with white dress shirts, sans ties. The top two buttons are undone, and an exaggerated swagger lends them a disreputable air. The one on the left has a small scar at the corner of his thin mouth. Younger than the one on the right, he takes a step forward.
“How fucked up is it that you two are living such a carefree life while refusing to make good on the loan?”
The loan?I rake my eyes over them. They don’t look anything like bankers or financial advisors. The Obermans are old money, and they don’t deal with people like this.
Before I can speak, he continues, “We haddainconvenienceourselves to come here to collect.” A huge gold ring glints on his index finger as he pokes my forehead with unexpected force.
I stagger back, frowning. “You must be mistaken. The family has a bank it deals with.”
“I must be mistaken,” he mocks in a falsetto, looking at his friend. “You sayin’ you don’t owe us? Lemme tell you somethin’, honey. When one of you owes us,allayou owe us.”
I glance at Sherry, but she looks just as confused as I am, and slightly anxious. Zachary was too straitlaced to deal with people like this. Which leaves—
“We are a good, respectable family,” Sherry says. Her diction is more pronounced, her spine straighter, a sign that she’s becoming upset. “This behavior is simply unacceptable.”
The men look at each other, chortling. “Ourbehavior.” Scar Mouth moves toward Sherry. “Pay up, bitch.”
I slip between them, standing before her like a shield. His meaty paw smacks my shoulder with enough force to bruise. I wince, gratefulhe didn’t touch Sherry, who’s in her sixties and too delicate for this kind of physical confrontation. Anger flares in his beady eyes.
“You gettin’ in my way?” He shoves me to my right, hard.
I gasp as I lose my balance and fall into the lake. Along with the splash comes an agitated shout from one of the men. Despite L.A.’s warm weather, the water is frigid, chilling me instantly. I sink, gravity sucking me into the murky depths. Little bubbles brush past me, and my survival instinct jolts through me, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Zachary made sure I could swim, and it’s coming in handy as I kick myself up toward the surface.
A large object splashes into the water. Auburn hair waves like kelp…
Sherry!
Panic roars in my head, drowning out the pounding of my heart. She never learned to swim. She avoided the water entirely ever since Finley died.Did the assholes push her in, too?Damn it, that’s practically murder!
I propel myself toward her. She flails, bubbles rising. My hands brush against her arms, but she shoves at me, jerking her hands and shaking her head faster. She opens her mouth as though trying to speak, although nothing comes out under the water.
What is she trying to do?Doesn’t she know she’s making things harder for me?
I give her a stern look—well, as stern as I can manage given the situation.I’m not leaving without you.
I grab her and frog-kick us up, even though she thrashes against me. My task is a thousand times more difficult with her flailing.Is being in the water triggering her?
