For a second I want to puke or scream. Stuart escaped? He’s here?
Dani…
But no—it’s just my stepfather.
Shit.My stepfather.
Ding-dong!
I rush to the door, pivot, then rush back to my bed—throwing off the pillows, rumpling the sheets, pulling back the covers.
Then I run into the guest room.
Dani is sprawled in the middle of the bed, in her robe. The TV is going, her hair is all over her face, and a blanket’s half wrapped around her bare legs. Her dog is snoozing next to her chest, snoring softly.
I scoop the whole mess up—girl, dog, blankets—and rush her to my bedroom.
Ding-dong!
Dani screams, “Help! Someone help! I’m being kidnapped! Hel—”
Ding-dong!
“Oh—Graham?” Dani blinks at me. “What’s happening? What are you doing?”
“Shh.” I lay her in a pile of blankets and pull the covers over her.
“I need water.”
“I’ll get you water.”
“With the good ice.”
“Dani.”
She pats my head. “Imma sleepy right meow.”
Ding—
“What took you so long?” my stepfather demands as he brushes past me into the penthouse when I open the door.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him. “Is it Mom?”
He doesn’t respond. His eyes search the penthouse like a detective’s.
“I just don’t believe it,” he tells me. “There aren’t any photos of you two up. Is she even here?”
“Don’t you know my generation doesn’t hang up photos?”
“I saw that Instagram post. It’s the first time Dani’s posted anything about you two. Bridget says that’s weird.”
“I’m a billionaire—I asked her to keep this under wraps.”
“You can’t be controlling,” my stepdad barks at me. “I warned you.”
“I’m not.” I try to keep my heart rate down as I follow my stepdad through the house. He sees her pens, which I lined up neatly on the coffee table while she took the world’s longest bath.
“She’s asleep,” I tell him.
