Page 5

Using a trick that’s never failed me, I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth to stem my tears and pick up my spoon to stir a packet of sugar into my sweet tea. This place never quite makes it sweet enough.

I stir until a mini tornado forms in the glass, entranced by the spinning amber liquid until my body relaxes enough to get me out of freeze mode.

“Wear a white dress and do something with your hair. I need you to look like you give a fuck about yourself tonight.”

“I don’t even own a white dress,” I mumble. Reaching up, I run a hand through the ends of my new bob. Since Indigo’s in cosmetology school, I agreed to let her use me as her at-home model. After twenty-five years of not being allowed to get anything but a trim, I was too eager to volunteer for a shorter style and new color. She claims the ash brown color compliments my skin tone and is perfect for summer. And well, she’s my first girlfriend, so I trust whatever she says.

Pulling in an exhausted breath, I collect the condensation from the ice-cold glass on my fingertips and run them over my forehead, chasing an ounce of relief before reaching in my purse for my wallet.

A second later, my hand is in the air to flag down a waiter for a to-go box. I might not have an appetite right now, but I’ll be damned if I waste my last twenty dollars on something I don’t even eat. The extra water bottle will run me $4 alone and I may be having regrets. I won’t have bus fare to get home and walking home with a headachesounds about as fun as whatever mystery event awaits me tonight.

“I hope you know I’m not paying for that. Tired of covering your ass.”

A sharp pain stabs me above my right eye, making me wince as I remember my brother’s parting dig.

At least he’s never been coy about his feelings for me. We’ve never shared the sibling bond I see celebrated in tv shows and books. No, contempt has always been the only emotion between us.

Weston Rose hates me, and I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual. With the way he reminds me of my faults, I don’t see that ever changing. Who I am is cemented in his head because I had the audacity to want better for myself after our father passed last year. Throwing my shortcomings in my face is the only language he knows.

Except we both know the apartment isn’t reallyallhe’s holding over my head. We just can’t say the quiet part out loud.

At least after this—after tonight—I won’t owe him anymore.

He’s right. TheleastI could do is clear my debts before I move on to the next phase of my life.

Indigo wrapsher knuckles on the thin partition separating our living space. “Can I come in?”

My lips twist at her earnest question. “Yeah, Indy, come in.”

The first thing I see when she rounds the corner is a flash of white. “Here’s the dress you asked for.”

I take the wooden hanger from her grip and hold up thedress to inspect. It’s beautiful. I knew it would be. Everything Indigo owns looks like art.

Our apartment is no exception. It’s tiny, but it feels more like a home than the mini mansion I grew up in.

The tapestries on the wall, the cluttered fold-out table in our kitchenette and the VCR in our living area. It’s all the warmth and charm my childhood was missing, a time capsule of everything I never got to experience.

“Where are you going again?”

Indigo’s voice filters through my distraction and it’s only then I remember I’m holding the hanger and she’s standing beside my twin-size bed.

“Um…” I run my tongue over my teeth. “It’s a dinner thing. With my brother.”

Her left brow flattens at the mention of my brother, and I bite my tongue to stop a smile from forming. I’ve never spoken ill of my brother in front of her, but somehow, she knows.

Not tarrying on it, my roommate bites her lip as she looks over me. “Hmm. I’m gonna steam the dress. It should fit you like a glove,” she remarks. “You’ve gained weight since you moved in, thank god.”

The fondness in her voice and the lingering touch of her fingers on my forearm fills me with a warmth that’s evaded me all my life. I didn’t know I’d have to wait until I reached my mid-twenties to know what friendship truly means. To have someone who sees me without judging.

When I moved in, all I had to my name was the deposit and my share of the first month’s rent. Indigo had the rest. She’s what I like to call sunshine in human form. She taught me how to grocery shop, how to apply for jobs, how to enroll in classes to get my G.E.D…

“Come on, Lilah. Let’s do something with your head.”

“What’s so special about tonight?”I ask as Weston eases to a stop at the end of a mile-long single lane road leading to the estate.

I’ve only been here once but what I remember is that the meeting place for The Lost Rose Society AKA The Society is ensconced in secrets I never want to decode. Despite the opulence and grandeur visible to the eye, all I sense is darkness shrouding the grounds. Chills dance along my skin as we get closer to the gate.

The car stops at the security booth and the whining of the automatic window pulls my attention from the mansion just beyond the gates and back to what’s going on beside me.