“Are you on restrictions because you’re new?” Arden glances between us, her eyes squinting like she knows it’s a much more interesting story than that. “Or did something happen?”
“I got caught going somewhere I wasn’t supposed to with someone not approved,” I answer in a riddle.
Arden grins scandalously. “Oh, you’re fun. I can tell already.”
“She is,” Ashton agrees with a conspiratorial smile. “This year’s going to be cra-zy!”
“As long as we don’t get caught,” I add, the dread in my tone in complete contrast to their animated expressions.
“Don’t you worry about that,” Arden assures me with a wink. “Anyway, I have a couple days free before the first committee meeting. After that, I’ll be completely consumed with Ball prep. So let’s have a party tomorrow.”
Ashton’s eyes light up. “Where?”
“Here. In my room. I know for a fact that Mrs. Seyer will be visiting her ill mother and won’t return until Tuesday.”
“That is perfect!” Ashton nudges me. “See, I told you. SoCom gets access to all the info.”
It takes me a second to understand what SoCom means, but then I attempt to think like Ashton and get that she abbreviated social committee.
“Has your costume arrived for the Ball yet?” Arden asks us.
“Mine will be here next week,” Ashton gloats, her face lighting up. I smile awkwardly when they wait for me to answer. Ashton rolls her eyes. “You haven’t found one yet, have you?”
I shift uncomfortably. “Nope.”
“Please tell me you at least asked Grant to go with you?” Ashton’s eyes grow round, horrified, when I only shrug.
This piques Arden’s curiosity. “Oh. Is this the unapproved someone?”
Before I can utter a word, Ashton gushes, “Prince Philip is the most amazing human being ever created. He’s super nice. Thoughtful. Brilliant. And truly beautiful. And he just happens to be in love with our angry little pixie here.”
She pats me on the head. I glower and swat her hand away.
“Really?” Arden grins wider, completely enthralled. “And you love him too?”
“Uh …” I stand suddenly. “What time are you thinking tomorrow?”
“Where are you going?” Ashton demands, grabbing my hand to keep me from escaping. “Stop being weird.” She explains to Arden, “She has this thing about feelings. She won’t talk about them. Sometimes, she forgets to express them … the happy ones anyway.”
I dislodge my hand from her grip, annoyed. I just met this girl. She doesn’t need to know everything. “Ashton.”
Arden giggles. “Oh, sorry to have spooked you, Lana. But please stay. I promise to stop with the questions. We’ll search for the perfect costume.” Arden removes a tablet from a bag under the table. “Let’s find something that lets everyone know exactly who you are. Your inside worn on the outside.”
Intrigued, I decide to sit back down. Ashton squeals when she pulls up site after site of ideas that cost more than my entire wardrobe.
“I love that you have internet privileges!” Then she notices my ashen face. “Don’t even worry about the cost. My parents have got you covered. Girl, we’re going to make you look fierce!”
Two hours later, they are so very proud of themselves. And for the first time, I may possibly be looking forward to this stupid dance. Except now I need to figure out how to ask Grant to go with me in a non-public way.
Where’s your phone?” Brendan asks, sitting next to me in the dining hall before anyone else arrives.
“Why? Were you not able to find me on your stalker map?” I ask with a smug grin, proud of myself for stumping Brendan with my tinfoil Faraday cage.
He rolls his eyes. “What did you do to the phone, Lana?”
“Hid it from you. Sorry if you don’t know my every move. We may have called a kind of truce, but it doesn’t mean I trust you.”
“You can’t hide from me,” he says, leaning in so we’re eye-level. “I know where you live.” He stares at me with an arrogant smirk, and his eyes glint with mirth.
I shove him just as he bursts out laughing.
“Seriously, Princess. You need to stop being so paranoid.”
“Please don’t make her hate you more than she already does,” Ashton pleads, taking a seat across from us. “She’s my best friend. And you’re my … anyway, it would make me sad if you two killed each other.”
Arden sits next to her. “Who hates who?” Then she takes in my simmering expression and Brendan’s gloating face. “Oh, I get it. Sibling rivalry.”
Ashton laughs so hard, she snorts. “They’re … not …” She can’t finish as she bends over, holding her stomach.
Brendan raises his brows, impressed. I gape like a fish.
Arden leans over while Ashton’s still preoccupied, trying not to fall off her chair. She whispers, “Sorry. Didn’t realize it was a secret.” Then she leans back and pats Ashton on the back. “Relax, honey. You’ll pee yourself, laughing like that.”
“Brendan, do you know Arden?” I inquire as my way of an introduction.
“I’ve seen you around,” Brendan replies.
She is kind of hard to miss.
“Likewise,” Arden says, inspecting him openly. “You’re Ashton’s, right?”
Ashton gleams. “He is. And I don’t share. Not anymore.”
“Excellent,” Arden remarks like this is something to be celebrated. “It’s important to know who belongs beside you.”
Sophia slips into her chair wordlessly, appearing extremely bashful.
“Why are you acting all … you?” Ashton questions, waving her hand in the air surrounding Sophia. “Did something happen?”
Sophia lifts her lashes to take in Arden. “Hi, Arden.”
“Sophia,” Arden greets her coolly. “If you’ll excuse me.” Arden scoots her chair back and walks away with her tray of food.
“What was that all about?” Brendan asks as we all follow Arden’s departure until she’s outside.
Sophia replies softly, “I may have reported her last term, and she was stripped of head chair of the social committee because of it.”
“For what?” Ashton inquires, seemingly baffled. “Arden is amazing.”
“Partying in her room.”
“But partying is what the social committee does,” Ashton states, like Sophia’s beyond insane.
“I was only doing what I’ve been asked to do,” she answers meekly.
I narrow my eyes. Something’s off. “Should I be worried?” I ask her, ignoring Ashton’s dumbfounded reaction.
“You’ll be fine,” Sophia replies softly. “People like you.”
Brendan begins to laugh. I jab him in the ribs with my elbow before he can get carried away.
“Yes, you’re so charming,” he coughs.
As I’m hanging up with Grant, I hear a knock on my door. I open it, but no one’s there. There’s another knock, and I realize it’s coming from the bathroom.
“Come in,” I call to her, shutting the door to the hall.
Arden glides in, a smile on her face, holding two martini glasses. “Please tell me you drink.”
“Not as much lately, but yes.” I accept a glass. “What is this?” The liquid is purply-pink and garnished with blueberries and raspberries.
“If it tastes good, do you really care?” she asks, holding up her glass to toast.
I raise a brow in challenge.
“It’s acai-blueberry vodka, cranberry juice and honey,” she announces, unaffected. “Toast?”
I raise my glass.
“To an adventurous school year,” she declares, tapping my glass with a distinct ting.
I almost don’t take a sip, not wanting to commit to any more adventures. But I figure it’s pretty unavoidable, considering my innate chaos. “This is pretty fantastic.”
“I know,” she says, striding around my room like it’s a museum and she’s deciding which art installations
speak to her. “Serge decorated your room, didn’t he?”
“How did you know?” I ask, completely puzzled by this girl.
She has an instinct that’s undeniable. I’m still deciding if she’s trustworthy.
“He has a fascination with lighting,” she notes, examining the fireflies dancing across the wall. “He’s very good.” She nods toward the bathroom. “Come. I want to show you something.”
We cross over into her room. She tips back her martini glass for a generous sip before setting it down on the table.
“I know this room looks very plain,” she says, “but it has secrets.”
She presses down on a section at the far end of the console over the sink, and a panel slides back to allow a laptop to rise from within. A pair of headphones are set on top. She places the headphones around her neck and boots up the laptop. Within a few keystrokes, the chandelier dims, and the tiles beneath my feet illuminate. I spin around in astonishment.
Music seeps through speakers I overlooked earlier, suspended in the corners. The chandelier pulses in time with the sultry electronic beats. And the tiles of the floor slowly transition from one color to the next in a muted glow.
“Holy shit,” I utter in awe, stepping across it, leaving a trail of optical footprints with each step.
“Antonio also adores lighting,” Arden says, her mouth pressed into a crooked smile as she sways to the music, waving her arms with the fluidity of a stream. “We’re going to have so much fun, Lana. I promise.”
Or get kicked out, I think to myself.
I stay with her for the one drink, then leave her to sleep off her jet lag.
Sleep finds me easily. Probably helped that I expended my pent-up energy, punching and screaming earlier in the day. And the martini probably helped too. I drift off, wondering how my mom’s processing everything that’s happened. If my words hurt her or set her free. But then I dismiss it. She has Olivia now. Not my concern.
I shoot up in bed at the pounding on my door, my heart thundering.
“Lana! Wake up!” Mr. Garner bellows from the other side, his fist thumping repeatedly.
I flip back the covers and scramble out of bed, flying to the door. “What is it?”
“Get dressed. Parker’s on his way to pick you up,” he says breathlessly. “It’s your mother. She’s been taken to the hospital.”
I had to keep you locked away. Isolate you from everyone he loved. Shred your hope to keep him safe.
Five hours later, I’m holding my breath as I step into a hospital room, unprepared for what awaits. My mother lies in a bed, a cannula wrapped under her nose, an IV dripping fluids into her veins and a monitor beeping along with her heart—which is thankfully still beating. Her eyes are closed, and her long honey-colored hair drapes over one shoulder and disappears under the sheet pulled taut over her still body. She looks peaceful, and if it wasn’t for the fact that we’re in a hospital, I might be overcome with relief. She’s never been a restful sleeper.
The sound of water running draws my attention to a closed door. A few seconds later, Nick appears, shutting off the light to the bathroom.
I stare at him, too exhausted to be angry. I tried but couldn’t sleep during the predawn car ride. Parker and I were silent the entire drive. When I didn’t have my eyes closed, I was staring out the window, my mind conjuring a thousand catastrophes and ailments since I had only been told my mother collapsed and was taken to the hospital.
I keep replaying the last words I said to her. How disappointed I was that she wasn’t stronger. I should know that I can’t make her someone she’s not. She’s easily breakable. But she’s also kind and compassionate. She’s generous with a compliment or thoughtful word, always wanting others to feel better. She loves completely, well … except for me. She tries. I know she does. And she does love me in her own way, but not in the way that has ever put me first. I can choose to be resentful, or I can accept it and love her anyway.
I’ve always fought to protect her, to defend her. And now, standing over her while she’s lying in a hospital bed feels like I’ve failed her. Despite my declaration yesterday, I don’t know who I am to her if I’m not the one avenging her broken heart. Vowing to destroy all who have hurt her while claiming to love her. And I can’t fault my mother for who I am. For how much I love her.
Ashton may have just crowned me, but I’ve been the defender of the wronged my entire life.
“What are you doing here?” I ask Nick, my voice quiet but edged with ice.
Nick tosses the paper towel in the trash. “The hospital called me. I’m listed as her emergency contact.”
I’m disappointed by this but not surprised. “Where’s Olivia and Niall?”
“They should be back soon. It was a long night,” he explains vaguely.
It’s barely eight in the morning. If they were here the entire time it took me to arrive, then I can understand their need to recover.
“What happened?” I ask, moving closer, my attention back on my mother’s motionless form. The beeping from the monitor’s assuring but driving me crazy at the same time.
“They’re not sure exactly. She was complaining that her heart was beating really fast right before she passed out. Then she went into cardiac arrest. They’ve scheduled tests for later this morning.”
“Who found her?” I ask, considering it was the middle of the night when she collapsed.
“She was closing up at Stella’s after working the late shift,” Nick informs me, sitting on the chair next to her bed. From the looks of the blanket and pillow still folded on the table and the lines of worry creasing his face, he hasn’t slept.
“Will she be okay?” I grip the bed rail and focus on the rise and fall of her chest.
“I don’t know,” he says, bowing his head and rubbing his eyes.
“Would you like to sit?”
I spin at the sound of the female voice behind me.
“You must be Lana. I’m Kimberly, your mother’s nurse. I can bring in another chair if you’d like, so you can sit next to her while she sleeps.”
“Thanks,” I reply, suddenly feeling like my legs might give out.
A minute later, Kimberly rolls in a chair, and I let my body fall into it. The nurse smiles at me, her eyes crinkling at the edges. It’s a practiced expression, I can tell. A cautious look that wants to tell me everything will be okay without promising it will. I avert my eyes when the lump forms in the back of my throat.
“Thank you,” I croak, fighting the swell of emotion.
“Dr. Nolan will be by within the next couple hours,” she tells us. “Is there anything you need?”
I shake my head. She pauses for Nick to answer.
He blinks away from staring at Mom long enough to say, “No, thank you.” Then he returns to watching over her while she sleeps, his hand cupping hers.
I examine him in his vigil. His drawn mouth and swollen, red-rimmed eyes that indicate he’s been crying. He’s fixated on her, like he’s willing her to heal.
“Do you love her?” Despite everything he’s put her through, it’s the only thing that matters right now.
Nick draws his lips tight as his eyes shine with tears. He presses his fingers to his closed lids, pinching the moisture away. “Very much.” The hand that still holds hers squeezes in emphasis. “And I’ll say it for however long it takes for her to forgive me.”
I swallow, the persistent lump making it nearly impossible to speak. “I’m sorry for what I said to you that morning.”
He shakes his head as if to dismiss me. “You didn’t know. I wanted to tell you. Both of you. But it was complicated. Still is.”
“Your marriage to Cassandra?” I confirm.
He nods, picking up Mom’s hand and kissing it gently. “Faye didn’t want to be involved with me if there was a chance I’d go back to Cassandra. So I told her we were divorced to assure her I wouldn’t. Because I won’t. Never will. It’s over between us. But I should never have lied.”
“I don’t know. Anger. Vengeance. You name it. She doesn’t give up easily even if she doesn’t really want what she’s fighting for.”
“She doesn’t want you, but she doesn’t want anyone else to have you?” I clarify.
“More that she doesn’t want me to be with Faye,” he explains.
“Why?” I can’t hide the shock in my question. What could Cassandra have against my mother?
“I’m not sure. Maybe because Faye’s younger or because they know each other. It’s not like I can have a civil conversation with her. So I’m letting our lawyers handle it.”
“What about Lily?”
Nick meets my gaze for the first time. “You know Lily?”
“Just met her this summer when I was sent to Blackwood. She’s really messed up over this.”
Nick’s chin trembles as he presses his mouth into a straight line. “She won’t talk to me. Cassandra’s convinced her that I left them for Faye, which isn’t true. Our marriage was over almost a year before. I finally got up the nerve to move out last fall. A couple months later, I reconnected with Faye when she was assigned to temp for our Boston law office.” He searches my face. “Does Lily hate me?”
“She hates me and Mom,” I tell him with a sigh. “Or she did. Not sure anymore. But, yeah, Cassandra plays the role of the wronged wife well. Very dramatic, especially while choking down martinis.”
Nick closes his eyes, his neck tensing. “I can only imagine.”
“Try to talk to Lily,” I encourage him. “I don’t think she wants to be mad at you. She just wants to protect her mother.” I look to my own. “I know how that is.”
Nick releases a humorless laugh, well aware of my protective instincts. “Yes, you do.” He stifles an inadvertent yawn.
“If you want to get some sleep, I’m not going anywhere.”
He looks at my mother, uncertainty tightening his face. “Um, maybe I’ll stretch my legs and get a coffee.” He leans over and kisses her hand again before releasing it. “Do you still have my number in case something happens?”
The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4: Now We Know/What They Knew Page 16