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“Of course, sweet girl. It’s all ready for you.” Sole cups my face.

The next day, Dad wakes me up to take me to Bedford. I climb in the back of the black sedan with him without complaint. Though my body tenses at his proximity. Even if I don’t have the mind to fight him anymore, I recoil from him on instinct.

“You’ll be better once you’re home.” Dad’s been talking since we left the Hamptons. I can sense he’s unhappy, but it’s hard to catch everything he says when he keeps sayinghisname. “At least Archer had the decency to give us the mansion back.”

Hebought the house when Dad lost it for not paying property taxes. And now it’s mine. He left it to me. A feeling I don’t recognize tugs at the numbness in my chest, but it’s gone inside a breath.

“I still don’t understand why he would leave his fortune to that Gardenia woman when you are his wife. But don’t worry.” He leans closer to me.

I grip the door handle and focus on the outside. Bedford is pretty in the spring. The colorful flowers grow everywhere, even on the side of the road. Tall trees, covered in green leaves and white flowers, sway gently in the cool breeze. I lean my head on the car window, glad that the familiar landscape isn’t lifting the numbness that settled in my chest weeks ago. The dark void is better than the pain.

“My lawyers are already handling it.” He pats my thigh, and I recoil farther away from him.

“I don’t want his money,” I mutter.

“Why not?” He glares at me. “You’ve earned it. All those months you spent in his house, doing God only knows what to keep him happy. We’ve earned it. Archer’s fortune should be ours.”

I wince at his name, pressing my cheek to the cool car window.

“And if you remember, we agreed you’d return to dancing on Monday.” He adjusts his suit jacket. “I can’t deal with your lack of interest in everything anymore. You said you would be better by today.”

I blink away tears, trying to recall what I agreed to. I don’t even know the significance of today. I turn to face Dad. “What’s today?”

“Your birthday.” He furrows his brows, looking at me as if I’ve gone mad.

I nod.

“You said yes to cake, remember?” He digs through the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a box. “Happy birthday, Paloma.” When I don’t reach for the gift, he sighs and places the box in my hand. “It’s for you. Open it.”

I stare at him for a long minute. He doesn’t say anything, so I figure that’s my cue to unwrap the present. I do it quickly to get it over with. When I pull up a bracelet with tiny canary diamonds, he beams at me.

“It matches your eyes.” He takes the bracelet from me and fastens it to my wrist. “So how about it? Can I call Pierre right now and tell him to expect you back at the Performance Arts Centre?”

“You told him my knee was bad. He knows now,” I deadpan, hoping that’s the end of the conversation.

“Your knee is fine. I think it will be good for your mood to get back to something you love.” He grabs his phone off the seat. “I’ll let him know you’re ready.”

Maybe dancing again isn’t such a bad idea. Being out of the house feels odd, but it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. If I went back to my old routine, I could pretend all the stuff that came after my last performance didn’t happen.

“Okay,” I mutter then turn to face the window again.

He gets on the phone and leaves me alone the rest of the way. When we arrive at the mansion, Sole is there eagerly waiting for us. As soon as I climb out of the car, she rushes in to give me a hug.

“Happy Birthday.” She beams at me. “Come inside.” She ushers me through the front door.

“Everything looks the same.” I smile at my old home.

“When we lost the house, the new buyer asked to buy all the furniture inside.” Dad scoffs. “I should’ve known Archer was behind it all, trying to play the hero again.” He shakes his head in disgust.

I glance at him. He’s wearing a dark suit with a gray tie. I don’t recognize the man in front of me. Someone important to me just lost his life, and all Dad can do is worry about all the money we didn’t get. And now he’s unhappy that our home was preserved just for us. A faint memory of his intense blue gaze flickers in my mind. I push it away before it becomes something else. I don’t want the memory. It hurts.

“I need to lie down,” I mumble.

“Sure.” He gestures toward the grand staircase. “Your room is exactly as you left it.”

My head jerks up. And suddenly a spark ignites in my chest. It’s an odd feeling to feel something. It doesn’t hurt so I don’t push it away. Dad makes another remark, but his words are muffled by his previous statement. My room is exactly as I left it. Mom.

I rush up the stairs all the way to the third floor with Sole at my heels. When I reach my suite, I push the door and barge in. My excitement to see Freya’s young face again vanishes with my exhale. She’s not here.