He doesn’t get to ruin what I’ve worked so hard to build.
Rolling my shoulders, I got up, checked all the door locks, and headed upstairs. I lingered in doorways, watching each of my kids sleep for several minutes, and made myself a promise.
I was done hiding.
Donny would be in prison for another year. He had no power over me anymore.
He might have found me.
But the joke was on him, because I was no longer lost.
Chapter 19
Celine
Iloved my sister.
Truly. Deeply.
But she was a drill sergeant in Lululemon and Louboutins.
She was the eldest daughter stereotype on steroids. The kind of woman who didn’t so much arrive as deploy.
Within hours of stepping through my front door, she had done loads of laundry and was cooking freezer meals to leave for us. She even had Gus under the hood of my car. If I blinked wrong, she’d probably do my taxes and color my hair.
Her protective instincts knew no bounds. Or chill, for that matter.
“You look good.” She stepped into my space, tucking a lock of hair behind my shoulder like she was checking for injuries.
“I am good.” I batted her hand away and took a step pack. Personal growth, apparently, looked like asserting my bodily autonomy with my sister.
She narrowed her eyes, assessing, like she wasn’t totally convinced by my declaration.
My kids were running around with Simone, Chloe’s three-year-old daughter, who was obsessed with her older cousins in that special way a tiny person can be. She had arrived in a tutu and work boots, a combination that was aggressively on brand for my niece. She was an absolute force of nature, much like her mom.
Who was currently assessing me a little too closely. They’d arrived yesterday, gladly accepting our invitation to join us for the Harvest Festival, and had checked into the Thistle Inn and Spa.
But I suspected that this visit would also include an inspection.
“You sleeping?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Eating enough?”
Not really. But I wouldn’t admit that out loud. “Yes.”
“Locking the doors?”
I crossed my arms. “Did you create a spreadsheet to keep yourself organized for this interrogation, officer?”
“Don’t get cute.” Her lips quirked.
The situation with Donny had brought us closer, but in many ways, I still felt like the little sister, trailing behind her as she collected straight A’s, trophies, promotions, and every gold star in existence.
She was a CEO, for God’s sake, and she had a devoted husband who followed her around like she was the sun. She’d gotten pregnant unexpectedly in her forties and had delivered a healthy, joyful child like it was no big deal. She’d always been a goddamn superhero.
And I was just … me.
