I’d never leave Elliot behind, and there’s no way Warwick would willingly let go of his son.
As lovely as it is to pretend we can go back in time and everything will be like it was when we were kids, too many years have passed. There’s too much pain, too much ugly history Caleb doesn’t know about. For all his flaws, Warwick knows about Chantilly Lace and accepts that part of my past without a problem. But how would Caleb react if he found out? He’d never understand.
There are a lot of things he wouldn’t understand.
Two days from now, Caleb and Maisey will leave the Hamptons. Alice will go with them. All I have to do is keep it together until then. I’ll have to avoid Caleb as much as possible, being careful never to end up alone with him again. I can’t jeopardize Elliot’s future—or my own.
Sooner or later, Truth Seeker will reveal himself. Whatever terrible thing he wants, I’ll deal with it then. It’s just a matter of biding my time.
And biding my time is something I’ve become very good at.
No one can run forever.
Elliot whimpers in the other room, and I go to him, smiling.
Watch me, I think. Just watch me.
* * *
Steam billows out of the bathroom as I emerge from the shower. I’d expected the scalding water would soothe me, or at least clear my head, but it hadn’t had the usual effect. The meaning of the emails gnaws at me, destroying any hope that I’d find a bit of peace.
Warwick’s absence is the perfect excuse to open a window and let some fresh air into the bedroom. Tightening the sash on my bathrobe, I move the curtains aside, startled to see Maisey walking along the beach. I didn’t expect her to have made her way back to the house so quickly.
What startles me more is the fact she isn’t alone. Caleb is with her, and they look quite chummy. What happened to the errands he’s supposed to be doing for Eleanor? He can’t possibly have finished them already. He may be amazing, but he’s not Superman.
My sister edges closer to Caleb, bumping his shoulder with hers. Are we ten years old? Come on, Maisey. But if he minds her immaturity, it doesn’t show. He nudges her back. They appear to be having an intense conversation about something, and the serious expression on his face makes me nervous. What is she telling him?
Recalling how eager she’d been to discuss Frankie’s death yesterday, I find it difficult not to jump to conclusions. She’s not stupid enough to get into that with Caleb, is she? But what else do they have to talk about? What else would make him look that intense?
Just when I’m worried enough to start pounding on the window to distract them, Caleb throws an arm around my sister’s shoulders, bringing her close enough to muss her hair. Her laughter soars on the summer air, easily reaching my hiding spot as I duck behind the drapes. It’s sickening. Sometimes when the two of them are together, Maisey becomes someone completely different. It’s like she turns into this giggly ditz who isn’t like her at all. Why does she feel the need to go into this act with him?
What is she doing with him, anyway? Caleb was always my person, not hers.
For the first time, I consider that Maisey might have feelings for him. She’d always had a crush on him when she was little, but I’d never taken it seriously—there were too many years between them. Now that we’re adults, the age difference is negligible. We’re not kids anymore. Maisey’s single, and Caleb is extremely attractive. Between her travels and his service overseas, they probably have plenty in common. They both share an adventurous spirit. Why wouldn’t she have feelings for him?
And what do I care if she does? If I want Caleb, I can have him. He’d made that clear in the nursery, and I’d rejected his offer...hadn’t I? Was I seriously having second thoughts?
Where is this animosity coming from? It’s crazy. Before Alice brought him into my life again, I hadn’t spoken to Caleb in years. Maybe we’d once been close, but those days were long over. If anything, I feel awkward around him now, nothing like the easy friendship we used to have—the relationship he apparently has with my sister.
My jaw tightens as I lean against the wall, watching the two of them together. Although they’re both staying at my home, I’ve never felt more unnecessary. It’s obvious I’m the odd one out. They look so comfortable with each other, teasing and joking around.
I’ve missed him.
Caleb’s visits had been the highlight of my adolescence: swimming in the ocean, campfires on the beach, climbing down the drainpipe to go to the movies, sneaking out and playing hide-and-seek in the moonlight. He’d accepted me the way I was, warts and all. When he was around, I felt like I could be a normal teenager. During Caleb’s visits, Peter mostly behaved himself. He wasn’t nearly as nasty to us.
Maybe if we’d stayed together, life could have been good again.
I had to quit thinking like this. We’d been kids, and it had been a summer fling, nothing more.
Whatever we had between us, obviously we weren’t soul mates. If we had been, he never would have left.
Below me, Maisey and Caleb are saying goodbye. She wraps her hand around his neck and urges him forward, kissing his cheek. That doesn’t look sisterly. Caleb’s eyes widen, but he gives her a little hug before heading in the opposite direction. I exhale as he leaves her behind. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath.
He slows as he nears the house, staring up at my window. Though I’m hidden behind the curtain, I’m afraid he can see me, anyway, that he’s well aware I’m watching. He always did have a talent for reading my mind.
Scrutinizing my window as if he’s searching for something, he gives his head a little shake before moving on down the beach. Did he see the curtain twitch when he was with Maisey? Can he feel me watching him? Did he want me to see him with my sister?
What are you playing at, Caleb?
* * *
I find Maisey in the rose garden. Good, we definitely need to talk. This time I’m ready to listen to whatever she has to say.
I’m about to greet her when I realize she isn’t alone.
“It’s not a big deal,” my sister says to an unseen companion, the color rising in her cheeks. I turn to go. She’s with Caleb, again? I stop when a feminine voice responds.
“Of course it’s a big deal. It’s a huge deal. I’m so proud of you, my Little Monster. I always knew you were meant for great things. You wanted to make the world a better place, and now you’re doing it. Even Peter would have been proud.”
Ugh. Not Caleb. Even worse—it’s Alice. I should have known.
Mother had asked me to give her a more in-depth tour of the gardens this morning, but I’d begged off, using my son as an excuse. I was finding it more and more difficult to be around her. She’s as loud and inappropriate as always, but now she is scatterbrained as well. I can’t fathom how she has the nerve to talk about Peter in front of us. That horrible man had hurt her too, but didn’t she understand what we’d gone through? Didn’t she get what he’d done to us? What he’d done to me? Whatever was left of our childhood when Dad died had been ruined by that nightmare.
