Page 3

I let Finn carry me to my bed. He stays by my side until I fall asleep. And all the heartache and tears make me fall asleep before I explain it’s not Corm who is the villain in this pathetic story.

“I think we should tell Dad,” Cal whispers.

“Do you want them to lock her in some institution?” Finn argues.

That makes me snap my eyes open.

My brothers stand side by side, looking out of the window, their backs to me. Their legs apart, their hands in their pockets. They ooze confidence. Will I ever be like them?

They have been taking turns sitting by my side and plotting Corm Quinn’s demise for two days.

I have never corrected Finn’s assumptions. I haven’t told him the glass broke because it slipped from my hand. I haven’t told him Arielle is to blame for my pain.

I haven’t corrected his assumptions because I’d lose their attention. The minute they would find out the truth, they would shake their heads and leave. And I really don’t want to be alone.

Not yet.

The wound is still too raw. Not the one on my palm that looks like an insignificant scratch now. The one in my heart, though?

Arielle told me to be brave, to be assertive, and ask for what I want. And I did. Confident like a Van den Linden. Like my brothers.

“Don’t tell Dad.” My voice is raspy.

My brothers turn in unison.

“Bambi, you’re up. How are you feeling?” Finn comes over and ruffles my hair.

“I just want to be alone.”

“What did that asshole do to you?” Cal snaps.

“Shut up,” Finn berates him, but his eyes search mine, hoping for some answers. But he doesn’t press. And I’m grateful for that.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

It’s true, I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to relive it. I know they would roll their eyes. I don’t want to be the pathetic girl.

“Do you want to play GTA?” Cal asks.

My eyes widen. They have never let me play with them. “Really?”

“Only if you promise to go back to school on Monday. If you hide here any longer, Dad will find out,” Finn says.

I nod, and Cal whisks me out of the bed, throwing me over his shoulder, drawing a laugh from me. It feels good to laugh.

I don’t go to school for another week, faking sickness. I’m not ready to deal with Arielle. Or anyone else. Not that anyone else knows about her betrayal, but I feel like it’s written all over my face.

Like it’s commemorated by the faint scar on my palm.

I should have gone to school the day after Finn found me. It would have been easier. But with each passing day, my overreaction becomes more and more obvious to me.

Arielle must know she hurt me badly by now, and since I didn’t face her right away, it’s getting harder and harder now. How did I let things spiral like this?

At least my parents are too busy to notice. But that illusion tumbles when Mother floats into my room, her dress billowing behind her.

“We found you a perfect school in Switzerland.” Her facial muscles are frozen, but I think there is a sparkle in her eyes.

She must have had her Botox injection earlier today. Are her eyes smiling?