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“How’s your knee?” Paul asks.

“It’s fine. I had enough rest.” I smile at him. “And my role isn’t that demanding.”

“Pierre is mad that you left him hanging.” He shrugs. “Nothing a sizable donation can’t fix though. You’ll be back on track in no time.”

“Thank you.” I hug him.

I really want to believe him. I want my life to be back on track, and to stop walking on eggshells around my own mind, afraid that the slightest familiar scent might send me into a spiral for memories.

Hours later, Pierre dismisses us. When I look to the audience, I see Dad walking up to the exit. I gather my things and head back to my dressing room. Paul falls into step next to me and starts catching me up on some of the gossip. Irma, the dancer playing the main role this season, is apparently sleeping with her co-star. Paul’s embellished story gets a chuckle out of me.

“That’s twice, you’ve laughed today. Progress.” He taps his shoulder to mine.

“Yeah. I guess.” I smile at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I wave at him and push the door to my dressing room open.

The minute I shut the door behind me, I freeze. The small room is exactly how I left it except for one thing. I place my hand over my mouth as tears stream down my cheeks. It’s not possible. This is a cruel joke. He’s dead.

My knee throbs as I step closer to the vanity and pick up the crystal swan. I’m still struggling to decide what any of it means when Dad barges into the room. I turn around to face him as hot adrenaline rushes through me. I fist my hand and place it behind my back.

“What are you hiding?” Dad squints at me. His anger fills the room, sending a cold shiver down my spine. He steps closer with his hand out. “Show me.”

Slowly, I show him my palm and the figurine in it. “It’s nothing,” I lie.

“Hmm.” He picks it up and holds it against the light.

I fight the urge to knock it out of his hand. The crystal swan is ours, mine and Archer’s. His name flashes in big letters in my mind. For once, I don’t wince. I let them wash over me like warm water. Didheleave it here for me? Or is this someone’s idea of a sick joke?

What does it mean? Is Archer alive?

I open my mouth to ask for it back. But I don’t want Dad to know what the crystal swan means to me, how much it means to me. If he finds out that the only person who could’ve left it here is Archer, he would for sure take it away.

“I see Hunter is still wasting his money on useless paraphernalia.” Dad takes my hand and places it in my palm, meeting my gaze.

I want to pull my hand away. But he’s already angry at me. I don’t want to push my luck. So I just stand there with my hand in his with our gazes locked. What does he want from me? By now, he knows I won’t call the police on him. I let go of that notion months ago. What would it do? He’s the Senator. He’s already been involved in two murders, and he’s still walking the streets a free man.

“I’m tired.” I glance away. “I need to change.”

“I came to make sure you didn’t linger. I saw you talking to Paul. I told you to stay away from him.” His voice rumbles in the small room.

“He’s just a friend.” I swallow.

“That is not the point.” He says putting emphasis on each word.

I’m sure he’s afraid I’ll confide in Paul. But I would never put Paul in danger like that. I’m stuck here with Dad. Bringing someone else into this mess would only make things worse for everyone involved.

Dad dips his head toward my bag. “Get your things. We’re leaving. Hunter will be joining us for dinner tonight.”

“Hunter?” Slowly, I pull my hand away from his grip. Relief washes over me when he lets me go.

“He misses you.” His gaze drops to my hands.

I’m sure he notices how I’m clinging to the crystal swan as if my life depends on it. Though now I’m not so sure Archer left it here for me. If Hunter is coming over for dinner, maybe he thought it would be romantic to buy me another crystal like the one he bought for me the day I was announced as the Swan Queen.

“Now every time you see his gift, you’ll think of me, Little Dove. I want to see you come. You’re not leaving my room until I watch you fall to pieces in front of me.”

Archer’s words come rushing back. And then, I can’t stop it. The memory of the first time I orgasmed for him is front and center in my mind. My carefully constructed barrier crumbles all around me. I see him clearly, the sleeves of his button-down shirt rolled up to showcase his forearms to perfection. He’s looking at me with hunger in his eyes, the same desperate hunger I feel. I squeeze my eyes shut to contain the wave of desire that explodes from my core.

Dad’s muffled words filter through my reverie. I glance up at him, then down at his hand gripping my upper arm tight.