I don’t actually want to go back to the party, not with Vin staring daggers at me whenever our gazes meet. We can’t leave this early without some sort of explanation to Jake. At least hiding out like this, I won’t have to deal with anyone but him.
Against my better judgment, I let Jake guide me down the hallway and toward a familiar set of rooms. I’m surprised we were able to get this far past the roaming staff and into a part of the house I know is supposed to be very off limits. The staff assigned to keep everyone corralled probably assumed nobody would be stupid enough to duck under the Do Not Enter! sign. No one in this town would dare sneak around Cortland Manor during the Founder’s Ball and risk never being invited onto the property again.
I think that might be what I like most about Jake. He doesn’t care about breaking the rigid and unspoken set of rules that the rest of us are forced to live by, because he doesn’t have any idea how important they are. As soon as he does, I’ll probably never see him again, so I should appreciate his ignorance while I can.
I still haven’t quite figured out what Jake wants from me.
He can’t be putting up with all this — the muteness, the threats from Vin, the general unpleasantness — because I’m the most interesting girl at Deception High. If anything, the opposite of true. My silence practically makes me a blank slate — people fill in my margins with whatever colors they want. I don’t need to have low self-esteem to know that nothing about me is worth all this hassle, not when we’ve only just met.
Maybe he just likes the idea of getting under Vin’s skin.
It was impossible not to notice Vin’s death glare when we walked into the house together. The grand entrance I hoped to make into the Founder’s Ball had been curtailed by just how long it had taken to tame my hair. I never straighten it, but tonight I did my best to turn the kinky curls into something approaching sleek. The entire time I was picturing Sophia’s perfectly styled waves and wishing that hair transplants were a real thing. Jake’s appreciative reaction when I finally came downstairs made me happy I’d made the herculean effort.
I want to feel fabulous and strong, that is the only defense I have left against Vin.
He asked me to fucking marry him.
I still can’t shake the feeling I’ll wake up and realize the last few days never happened, just feverish imaginings from the strangest dream I’ve ever had. Last night was the first time I didn’t wake up to the sound of my house creaking from rotten wood. There was enough food in the house that it actually tempted Zion to stay in for the night instead of running around the streets. I hate that money is my greatest weakness, but I can’t ignore that it wouldn’t take much to completely change my life.
It just can’t come from him.
Saying yes isn’t an option.
Vin has spent his entire life getting everything he wants without needing to lift a finger. I refuse to add myself to the long list of his personal possessions.
No matter what he might be offering.
“I wonder what’s in here?” Jake murmurs as he pushes open a door that creaks on its hinges.
Too many years have passed, which is my only excuse. I spent more time in the gardens and grounds of Cortland Manor, rarely coming inside. The layout is vaguely familiar, but I didn’t realize just how far we’ve ventured from the ballroom.
A blast of frigidly cold air blows over my skin as the door swings open, like opening a freezer door in the summer. The manor is always cold, but I don’t understand how anyone can stand this. Giselle keeps the air-conditioning running pretty much every day of the year. She told my mother once that sweating prematurely ages the skin.
“This place is like the Addam’s Family mansion, I swear.” Jake rustles one of the sheets that cover all the furniture, even the bed. “I bet there are a dozen bedrooms in this place that nobody even uses.”
A strange note has entered Jake’s voice, as if he finds something personally insulting about this house. I want to ask him about the disgust in his tone. We’re alone, and Vin would never know.
But I decide I don’t want to know the answer.
“What do we have here?”
It’s only when Jake pushes a rusted metal wheelchair out of the shadows that I realize our mistake. This isn’t some random guest room.
This is Vin’s old bedroom, the one he slept in as a child because it’s located on the first floor.
We have to get out of here.
I yank at Jake’s arm, but he ignores me and pulls the wheelchair further out into the light. Dried leaves and petals are stuck in the spokes, crumbling to bits at our feet as the wheels turn.
That wheelchair is a relic from another life. Vin would kill us both if he found us here with it. Memories are long in a town like this, but they don’t beat carefully cultivated lies. Few people know that Vin didn’t spend his elementary years away at boarding school, but closed up inside Cortland Manor like the beast from a fairytale. No pictures exist from that time in his life, at least none I’ve ever seen.
He erased those years so completely that it’s as if they never existed.
There is no telling what he might do to keep the past hidden.
“This is creepy as hell,” Jake says with a wide grin. “You think some old relative died in here, or something?”
I loop my arm through his again and try to lead him back toward
