"I had a fight with Dad. Again. He's the worst. And I can't stay there for another second."
"Did you tell him that?" I ask.
"Yes."
"And what did he say, Lyndall?"
Her face turns into a thunderstorm. "That if I kept up my whining, he would pack me off to a different school that makes sure students stay all year round. Is that prison?"
That is Dad making up shit. I don't say it, though. "He told you, right? We have a deal. Part-time with him, part-time with me. And when he is in Chicago, you're with me."
"Nope. I mean, sure, he said that, but he is also nowwanting a micromanaged timetable of what I'm doing every day and what I plan to do at your place."
With a sigh, I get my phone from the wet bar, and she jumps to her feet.
"What are you doing?"
"Calling Dad."
"No."
I grit my teeth. "Be reasonable, Lyndall."
"I am. I'm the queen of reason."
I laugh at that, and her glower gets darker.
I sigh. "Look, I have to call."
"He doesn't know. He went out after our fight."
I quietly send him a text because it is fair.
Me
Dad. Lyndall's safe. She said you had a fight. She's here.
Then I add,
We will talk tomorrow.
"You sort something out, Enzo. Part-time isn't good enough."
"He's your father," I say, even though he might not be.
"I don't care. I hate him. I hate his rules. And if you make me go back, I swear to God, I will run away again. Only next time, it won't be you I turn to for help."
"I told Dad where you are, so sit. You're staying here tonight."
She still stands.
I glare until she sits. "I will make you some hot chocolate."
Great. Just great.
This is not going to end well.
And where the fuck is Lola?
