by Geneva Lee
“How about I tuck you in?” Jami says.
“Can Auntie come, too?”
Ginny stiffens, but I smile reassuringly. “I’ll come up in a few minutes. I need to talk to Sterling.”
“How rude of me,” Ellie says, yawning widely, while fluttering her hand at him. “It’s nice to see you, Mr. Ford.”
Sterling’s hand reaches for mine, and I hear the slight break in his voice as he responds, “Sleep well, Ellie.”
Ellie will be safe, and Ginny’s come too unglued to realize that everything out of her mouth only incriminates her more. Still, watching the officer carry her up the stairs feels like an out of body experience.
“I think you need to answer a few questions, too,” the remaining officer says. “How did you know where the little girl was? This is a very big house. Mrs. MacLaine seems to think that’s a big coincidence, and so do I.”
I hope that having one of the officers believe me cancels out his determination to bootlick my brother and his wife. I’m too tired tonight to fight it. Although, I know I’ll never sleep. I’m not sure I’ll rest again while Ellie remains under this roof.
“A hunch,” I murmur. “She hid where I hid as a little girl.”
“Where was that?” He jots down a note.
Sterling’s hand tightens on mine. “Maybe we should call our lawyer.”
“Guilty people call their lawyers,” Malcolm says, joining us.
“You aren’t leaving us much of a choice,” Sterling growls.
“My mother’s closet,” I interject, answering the officer’s question.
“She was in your mother’s closet?” he asks in confusion, no doubt scrolling through memories to remind himself that she’s dead.
“No, it’s where I hid. She hid the same place,” I explain.
“So you found her in Ginny’s closet?” Malcolm asks. “We searched all our rooms—”
“I found her in my closet,” I correct him. “Ellie was hiding in her mother’s closet.”
“I’m sorry, are you saying—” the officer starts.
“I think it is best to let us handle this,” Malcolm cuts him off. “As you said, it’s family business.”
“I’m her mother,” I tell the officer. “He’s her father. When she was a baby, Virginia MacLaine tricked me and got legal guardianship of her.”
“I...well…” His pen hovers over his notepad like he can think of neither what to say nor what to write.
“Adair,” Malcolm says in a warning tone. “Think of what you’re doing. Consider the consequences.”
But I’m done living a lie. I squeeze Sterling’s hand, knowing we have a long fight ahead of us. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I should have done it years ago.”
“This can’t be taken back,” he hisses. “You’ll have nothing.”
“She’ll have the largest share possible of MacLaine Media,” Sterling cuts in, finally moving between me and my brother. This time I let him. I can fight my own battles, but love means not fighting those battles alone.
“That’s not possible,” Malcolm says, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t…”
“I already did.” For the first time since we arrived, Sterling smiles. “The company should stay in the family. Our family.”
“You think you can just show up, flashing your bank account, and take whatever you want?” he asks. “I have news for you: I’m a MacLaine. I don’t just have money. I have power. People know who I am. They listen to me. They do whatever I tell them.”
“God, you sound like our father,” I say, wondering when my big brother became so little. “He’d be proud.”
“And you!” He turns on me next. “He’d be disappointed in you. This isn’t over. I will keep you two in the courts until she’s eighteen if I have to.”
“We’re not giving up,” Sterling starts.
“No,” I stop him. “No, we won’t. We aren’t going to do that to her. We’ll figure something out, but we have to make the right choice for Ellie.”
“Adair, she’s our daughter,” Sterling says, searching my face for clues to my change of heart.
Behind him, Felix is watching all of us, his face carved into solemn relief. Our eyes meet for just a moment, and then he tilts his head so slightly no one else would notice. It’s a message. I’m doing the right thing. I’m doing the hard thing. I never had to look for someone to love after Sterling left. I had her. But loving someone means always doing what’s best for them, even when it breaks your heart.
“I know,” I say sadly. “I’ve thought for years that I didn’t fight them more because they kept me under foot. They made me sign agreements. They threatened to ruin me financially, socially. I never really cared about all of that, but I couldn’t risk not seeing her. I couldn’t risk losing her. Or that’s what I thought. Don’t you see?” I wait for him to nod, but he just stares at me in confusion. “They’ll tear her apart limb by limb until they break her, too. I don’t want that. I love her too much. If...if…”
I know what I have to do now. I know I have to let go.
“We’ll do it the right way,” Sterling says, speaking only to me now like we’re the only people in the room.
I force a smile, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “MacLaines don’t fight fair. They don’t care who they hurt. If they won’t protect her, I will. That’s my job. I’m her mother. I have to keep her safe.” I whip around to Malcolm. “But you have to do something about your wife. You can’t trust her. She’s—”
The wail of a fire alarm cuts me off mid-sentence before I can say crazy.
24
Sterling
Adair runs toward the stairs as soon as the alarm sounds, but I throw an arm around her waist. It takes effort to haul her outside, but as soon as I see smoke plumes wafting across the staircase, I know I have to. She screams and kicks, yelling Ellie’s name. I’m vaguely aware of the police officer calling for back-up, of Malcolm MacLaine dialing his security detail like they’ll know how to handle this, of Felix grimly joining me.
“Ellie!” Adair sobs.
“Jami, can you hear me? Are you on your way out?” The officer radios his partner, but no response comes.
Thirty seconds has passed. That’s too long.
“Stay here,” I order Adair, whose mouth drops open to argue. I cut her off. “Don’t argue with me, Lucky. I’ve been through worse. I will get her out.”
“I’m coming with you,” Malcolm says. The surprising display of masculinity stops me in my tracks.
“I don’t need more people in there to get out. Let me handle this. Trust me.” I don't wait to argue more with any of them, but before I reach the front door, Adair lets out a blood-curdling scream that vibrates in my bones.
I swivel to find her pointing at the roof in horror while she screams Ellie’s name. Felix wraps his arms around her.
“They’re up there,” he yells, his words nearly drowned out by Adair but clear on his lips.
I run inside, knowing exactly where to go. Smoke is billowing through the entry now. Windfall is going up like a tinderbox. It’s burning impossibly fast, the flames already reaching the plants in the atrium as I race inside and look for a swinging door I never expected to walk through again. It feels like a thousand lifetimes have passed. The stairs leading up to the roof feel even more narrow than I remember. The walls seem to slant in on me, the air thickening until it's hard to breathe. The door at the top is shut and when I try the knob, it’s jammed. I shove at it until it gives way.
Ginny’s standing near the small half-wall that runs along the roof’s perimeter, Ellie squirming in her arms. She turns at the sound of the door opening, her eyes catching the light from the dancing flames in the stained glass dome that rises in the center of the landing.
“We’re not going anywhere,” she says, sounding oddly calm. “This is our home. No one can make us leave.”
“You can stay, but I need to take Ellie with me.” I approach her slowly, calculating how much time I
have based on how quickly the fire is moving.
“She was supposed to be mine,” Ginny explains, her hands gripping my little girl so fiercely that she cries out in pain. “He promised me. Angus. Malcolm never kept his promises, but Angus did. He promised me a baby when I couldn’t have one. I just had to pretend. No one could know she wasn’t a MacLaine.”
“She is a MacLaine,” I say, taking another step toward her. I can feel heat radiating off the glass dome. That’s not a good sign.
“No, she’s not, but Adair didn’t know that. No one did, but Angus.” Her voice is distant—far away and lost in memories. “And Anne, of course. Anne told me. Her greatest shame. She’d written it all down somewhere. Angus could never find it. Never prove it, but he knew. It’s so hard pretending a bastard is yours. He did it well. Adair never deserved his kindness. If Adair had only been like her mother... Her mother was a survivor. Not like Adair. Not like me.”
I don’t like the sound of that. I move closer, but my quick movements startle her and she steps back, her heel brushing the edge of the wall and causing her to lose her balance for a second. Ellie shrieks and clutches Ginny’s leg like she can stop them both from falling. I freeze.
“Come down with me and explain. Be a survivor, Ginny,” I urge her.
“You know better than that,” she says. “I saw the file the private investigator dug up on you. People die. Don’t they, Sterling? Especially around you. Especially at war—and that’s what this is, isn’t it? War?”
“It doesn’t have to be.” I need to keep her talking while I assess the surroundings better. My memory of the night I was here with Adair years ago is clouded with heady memories of first love. I know the landing must look out over the front drive because Adair had pointed to it. She’d seen Ginny. I don’t allow myself to linger on Adair. She’s safe and Ellie is depending on me.
“You know better than that.” Ginny laughs. “It’s all a competition. Who has the most money and power and clout? You should have come back and gone toe-to-toe with Angus. Malcolm was never a match for you.”
“It’s over now. I have no interest in hurting your family.” I’m surprised to discover I mean it.
“After everything they did? He ruined your life. He just took it from you. That’s what they do. They take. Malcolm? He takes. He has a mistress, you know. She’s pregnant. I’m not even sure why he goes to all the trouble of pretending. Love only turns to poison in this house. Love can’t survive these walls. That’s why it has to burn to the ground. They deserve it. Can’t you see that? They deserve to watch all of this go up in flames.”
There’s no use in continuing this charade any longer. I’d made the mistake of seeing Ginny as a fragile, kept mouse, too weak to make it on her and thus grateful for her box. I was wrong. So wrong. She’d been beating her head against the walls, slowly slipping away into madness and despair while everyone around her assumed she was simply not a MacLaine. Not up to the task of social appearances and party planning. Not even up to being a trophy wife.
“Ginny, let her go.” I’m no longer asking or pleading. The glass dome radiates so much heat my skin is beginning to burn. We’re out of time.
“No.” Her head turns to look over her shoulder, a wicked smile curving over her lips as she bends to lift Ellie.
“Noo!” I yell at the same moment the glass dome shatters and flames rise from its wooden beams. Ginny’s arm flies up to cover her face, her body providing an unintentional shield for Ellie. I’m dimly aware of the slicing burn of shards of glass, but I finally see my opportunity. I lunge the last few feet and swipe Ellie from her.
“You’re bleeding,” Ellie says, and I look down to see her own face is scratched up.
“I’m fine.” I’m still talking, so that’s a good sign. Now I need to get us out of here.
“You can’t take her!” Ginny throws her body towards me, reaching for my feet with bloody hands.
“We need to leave now,” I tell her, easily moving out of her grasp. She rolls to the side, her eyes landing on the flames and widening as though she’s just realized what’s happening. I can’t get them both out. I can only hope she follows when she realizes how this is going to end.
The door knob is white hot and I startle before pushing past the pain and clasping it.
It’s locked.
The door locks from the inside.
How could I forget that?
I step back and aim a well-placed kick, praying it gives. But this isn’t an operation in the middle east. This is a mansion in Valmont, Tennessee with steel reinforced security on every door. It’s not going to budge, which means I have to find another way out.
Ginny is still on the ground, curling into a ball and weeping. I move to the edge of the roof, looking down to find Adair staring up. When she sees me, she tries to dart towards the house, but Malcolm grabs her arm before she can run in after us. I look down as the sound of sirens mixes with the crackling snap of wood and plaster giving way to flame. Fire trucks. They’re too far away. They aren’t going to reach us. The landing isn’t on the second floor. We might have stood a chance if it were. I might have trusted Malcolm to catch her, at least. But the landing is in its own special spot, no doubt some maintenance place to care for the atrium. It’s not meant to be an escape. Windfall has never been meant for that.
It’s a prison. It always, and it would have been if not for the fire devouring it from the inside out like a parasite. My eyes meet Adair’s one last time, and I realize there are so many moments we’ll never have. I’ll never see her in a wedding dress. I’ll never wake up in our house. I’ll never rush her to the hospital to have our baby. They’re all gone, and I can’t take back a single one.
And she’s not here with me now. Ellie is and I guess if this is the last moment we have, I don’t want to spend it fighting to survive. I want to spend it in love.
I kneel to the ground, placing my daughter gently on her feet, my back to the flames roaring behind us.
“Is someone coming to save us?” she asks, trying to strain to look over my shoulder.
“Yes,” I lie. “We’re just going to wait for them a minute.”
“I knew someone would come because I’m wearing this.” She points to a silver clover necklace. “Auntie gave it to me. It’s a good luck charm.”
I swallow at the sight of that stupid birthday present I’d left forgotten in Adair’s car, now hanging on our child’s neck. “Smart thinking. Do you trust me?”
She considers my question for a second. “Yes, because she trusts you, but also…”
“Yes?”
“I’m not sure. I just do.” She holds up her stuffed bear. “Buddy Bear likes you. He thinks you’re brave.”
“I think you’re brave.” I clasp her upper arm. “This isn’t going to make sense to you,” I say in a thick voice, “but I love you, Ellie, and I’ve loved you your whole life.”
“It’s good to love people,” she says seriously. “Felix told me. He says love is what makes the world round. I love you, too, Mr. Ford.”
I wrap my arms around her, because she is every moment I ever wanted, all the love I ever craved, and in the end, that’s enough.
“It’s getting hot,” she whispers. “I hope they come soon.”
“I’m just glad I’m here with you,” I tell her, because I wouldn’t have this any other way. I’d still race into that burning house. I’d still walk through that locked door. The flames are so close that I can feel my skin starting to blister from the heat, and I spread myself as much as I can between the fire and her. It’s not much, but if it’s all I have to give, I’ll give it to her.
When my shirt catches fire, I release her and she screams just as the landing door bursts open and a gray-haired head emerges from the smoke.
Felix.
He rushes toward us, nearly tripping on Ginny who claws at him as he passes, and throws his jacket over me to smother the flame. “You forgot the door locks!”
But he always kno
ws where his charges are.
“Get her out of here,” he says, pointing to Ellie. “I’ll get Ginny.”
I grab Ellie, my body running on pure adrenaline, and sprint down the stairs. Fire and smoke is everywhere. I pause long enough to yank Felix’s jacket over her, then I round my body into a protective shell and take a leap of faith. Sometimes, the only way out is through.
25
Adair
The atrium collapses and so does my heart, sucking the screams from my lungs. Malcolm won’t let me go. Even after we saw them on the roof. Even after Felix ran inside after them. His hold on me is firm and unrelenting. I don’t know why he cares. I’m not the one he chose to save. I never will be.
Fire licks up the sides of Windfall, blackening its white walls, dragging it into ash and ruin. Hell is reclaiming it. Soon there will be nothing left.
Nothing left but the diseased bones it leaves behind.
I was never going to escape it. How could I? That’s the price it demanded. My love. My freedom. My soul. Its appetite will never be satiated. It is as greedy as my father. But all things fade, especially powerful men and their fortunes.
Years ago, I swore to never tell a soul the truth. I swore on everything I had—and now the devil’s come to collect. Angus MacLaine might be gone, but I can’t help thinking he’s orchestrated all of this from whatever circle of hell he burns in. Nobody breaks a contract with him.
My knees give out first, and I crumple to the ground as another bit of the East Wing collapses. There’s no way to stop it. Nothing to do. Some days were diamonds but never again.
A shout goes up from a team of firefighters, and a moment later, one hustles out of the door carrying a small bundle. They rush it to the back of an ambulance and a spluttering, coughing Ellie emerges covered in black smudges from a jacket.
I push up on my palms and run to her, unable to stop myself from grabbing hold of her even as the medic presses an oxygen mask to her nose. The medic doesn’t stop me, she just works around me as I pepper her with kisses, grabbing her hands to inspect them, looking for signs of damage.