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Willow pressed a hand dramatically over her heart like I had wounded her. Then she tilted her head toward the ceiling and raised both palms.

“Caspian, God, ancestors, whoever transferred all that money into this stingy woman’s account, I just want y’all to know there are grateful people down here too.” She pointed to herself. “People who appreciate blessings… people who would happily use unexpected wealth to support their family financially, stimulate the local economy, and provide cocktails to grown adults in need!”

I chuckled. “Seriously, Willow?”

She kept going, louder now. “If there was some sort of clerical error in the spiritual accounting department, I am available for immediate redistribution! My Cash App is active, my bank accepts wires, and unlike some people, I will not question the blessing!”

I snatched the dish towel off the counter and tossed it straight at her head with all my strength.

“Girl!”

Willow ducked just in time as the towel whipped past her.

She tucked her laptop against her chest and marched toward the stairs with a dramatic huff, and the wounded dignity of somebody who had just been denied access to a trust fund, while muttering under her breath about selfish millionaires.

“This is financial abuse!” she faked cried. “I hope whoever gave you that money is watching how you treat the less fortunate!”

“The less fortunate?” I retorted. “Willow, you live here for free!”

“So do you,” she shot back. “But that is irrelevant to my suffering!”

Willow turned toward the staircase, dragging one hand dramatically along the wall as she climbed.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll just go upstairs and continue being poor in my luxury bedroom with the soaking tub.”

I burst out laughing.

She sniffled loudly and wiped at imaginary tears. “Some sisters share generational wealth; mine throws linens at me!”

I snorted. “Willow, stop your shit!”

“I’m going!” she yelled, disappearing around the corner. “But when some mystery benefactor randomly drops a few million in my account, don’t ask me for shit! I’m remembering this moment!”

Her bedroom door slammed upstairs… two seconds later, it opened again.

“I’m telling Granny about this when she gets back! She’s going to be so disappointed in you!”

Before I could answer, she hurriedly slammed the door again, then it quickly reopened.

“And I still need money for an ice sculpture!”

The door slammed a second time.

I sat there for a few seconds, waiting to see if she had any more requests, threats, complaints, or last-minute grievances she needed to get off her chest. When the hallway finally stayed quiet, I shook my head and slumped back against the stool as a real, genuine laugh bubbled up from my chest.

That girl is going to be the death of me.

I picked up my phone and stared at the party flyer on my screen one last time before pressing the side button to lock the display.

There would apparently be a massive Halloween bash taking place right inside Caspian Black’s mansion in just a few days. But I wasn’t going to be a part of it… not even if Willow begged me on her knees, and definitely not if she showed up at my bedroom door with one of her ridiculous, over-the-top costumes.

I had spent six long, agonizing years wishing I could change what happened on Halloween night. I wasn’t about to spend this one celebrating it.

At least, that was what I kept telling myself.

Chapter twenty-two

Lakelyn