Page 22

Arden

I make my way down the familiar hallway, my boots clicking softly against the polished floor.

It’s been two weeks since I last came to see Gran. The second longest I’ve gone without visiting in years. I tell myself it’s because of work, but the truth is more complicated than that.

The door to her room is slightly ajar, and I’m about to knock when a voice stops me.

“She hasn’t been doing well since her last visitor.”

I turn to see Nurse Langston, her kind face shadowed with worry.

“Visitor?” I ask, frowning. “Gran hasn’t had a visitor besides me in… years.”

Langston nods, lowering her voice. “That’s what we thought too, but someone came by a few days ago. We weren’t given a name, just a well-dressed man who seemed polite enough. He stayed about thirty minutes. She’s been… agitated ever since.”

Agitated.

The word twists in my gut, setting me on edge. Gran rarely had lucid moments these days, but when she did, she was sharp enough to notice things most people wouldn’t. If someone visited her, there was a reason.

“Did he say anything? Leave anything behind?”

Langston shakes her head. “No, but she’s been more disoriented than usual. She keeps asking for her granddaughter, though.” She pauses, her gaze softening. “Not Annie. You.”

I don’t allow myself to get my hopes up about if she’s still lucid. I know it comes and goes, yet it never lasts long.

I swallow hard, forcing a tight nod before stepping past her into the room.

Gran is sitting by the window, a thick quilt draped over her lap despite the warmth of the room. Her hair is even thinner now, snow white and wispy around her face, and her hands tremble slightly as they rest on the armrests of her chair.

“Hi, Gran,” I say softly, shutting the door behind me.

She doesn’t respond right away, her gaze fixed on the garden outside. For a moment, I think she hasn’t heard me, but then her head turns, her eyes meeting mine.

“You’re not Annie,” she says, her voice clearer than it’s been in months.

My chest tightens. “No, Gran. It’s me. Arden.”

Her lips press together, her eyes narrowing as if she’s trying to place the name. And then, like a light flickering on, recognition dawns.

“Arden,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “My granddaughter. You’re all grown up now.”

I nod, stepping closer, my throat thick. “That’s right.”

Gran’s hands clutch the edges of the quilt, her knuckles white. “Where’s your father?” she asks suddenly, her gaze sharp. “Did he come back? He said he’d come back.”

The unknown man’s name hits like a punch to the stomach. I kneel beside her, trying to keep my voice calm. “Gran… Leo hasn’t been around for a long time.”

She shakes her head, her expression distant now. “That’s just not possible. He was getting ready to leave his job, you know.” Her words grow softer, more fragmented. I recall her saying that the last time I was here, but she didn’t elaborate. “Something at the White House. Very important man but he was going to leave it all behind. To settle down with your mom. He loved her more than life itself.”

My fingers tighten against the arm of the chair. Leo. My mother. Two names I’ve spent most of my life trying to forget and learn, now tangled together in a past I can’t seem to escape.

“Do you know what happened to him?” I ask carefully, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.

Gran’s cracked lips tremble, her gaze darting back to the window. “He never came back,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “But he swore he would. Your mom waited for him, but then she…” Her face crumples with emotion. “She made mistakes, Arden. She made so many mistakes.”

I reach for her hand, holding it gently. “It’s okay, Gran. You don’t have to talk about it.”

But she shakes her head, tears pooling in her eyes. “She loves you, you know. She just didn’t know how to show it.”

I swallow the bitter laugh threatening to escape. Loved me. That’s one way to describe the woman who sold me out to the highest bidder, whose addictions always came first, no matter the cost.

“She tried,” Gran whispers, her voice breaking.

I don’t argue. I don’t tell her about the night I found my mother counting cash on the dining table while a stranger eyed me like I was the next thing up for sale. Or about the years Luna’s parents spent trying to patch together the pieces my mother had shattered.

Instead, I squeeze Gran’s hand and force a smile. “I know, Gran.”

Her eyes search mine, filled with a clarity that feels like a gift and a curse all at once. “You’re stronger than her,” she says softly. “Stronger than all of them. Don’t forget that, Arden.”

I nod, my throat tight as I blink back the burn of tears.

Gran’s gaze drifts back to the garden, and the moment slips away as quickly as it came. Her features relax, her expression distant again, as though she’s forgotten I’m even there.

I stay with her a while longer, sitting in silence as the sun dips lower in the sky. But the nurse’s words linger, heavy and unrelenting.

Someone visited her. Someone who shouldn’t have.

And whoever it was, they left Gran worse than they found her.

***

I sense that something is off the moment I step out of the elevator. The tension surrounding the air is like a living thing. An intense and impossible stench to ignore. It pulls me forward, past the hallway’s soft lighting and muted beige walls, straight to the apartment door.

I hesitate, my hand resting on the doorknob, catching the faint sound of voices from inside. Not voices. A fight.

One voice is unmistakably Luna’s, edged with frustration, but the other? Tavia. And she’s pissed.

I push the door open slowly, stepping inside just as Tavia’s words cut through the room like a blade.

“Why are you lying to me, Luna?”

Quietly shutting the door behind me, I pause at the sight in front of me.

Luna stands by the kitchen counter, her arms crossed over her chest, her expression tight. Across from her, Tavia is pacing, her eyes blazing with anger.

“I’m not lying,” Luna snaps, her voice uncharacteristically cold.

“Then why the hell did I hear that you left a tavern halfway across town with some random guy ?” Tavia demands, her words landing like a slap.

I should give them privacy, move, do something, but I’m stuck. I’m frozen in place as my mind scrambles to piece together what I’ve just walked into.

“That’s not what happened, and you know it,” Luna shoots back, her voice rising. “I went home. Arden took me home.”

The mention of my name makes Tavia’s head whip toward me. Her dark eyes narrow, pinning me with a look of pure hatred.

“Well?” she demands. “Is that true?”

Luna’s gaze flicks to me, her eyes pleading silently to just answer and not pick a fight.

I take a steadying breath, stepping farther into the room. “It’s true. I brought Luna home that night. We were alone.”

Tavia lets out a harsh laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “How convenient. Covering for each other now?”

I feel my patience thinning, but I keep my voice calm. “I’m not covering for anyone. Luna drank too much, and I had to practically carry her to the door.”

The memory flashes in my mind, Luna leaning heavily against me, slurring something unintelligible as I tried to find either set of our keys. Getting her inside was one thing, but getting her undressed and her makeup off had been a whole other ordeal.

“She was in no condition to go anywhere with anyone,” I continue, my tone steady but firm. “So unless you think I’m lying too, maybe you should reconsider whatever rumor you’ve decided to believe.”

Tavia’s gaze sharpens, and for a moment, I can see the conflict in her eyes. She doesn’t trust me; she never has. But it’s not just mistrust. It’s darker, something way more personal.

“Of course you’d defend her,” Tavia says bitterly, her focus shifting back to Luna and dismissing my statement completely. “You’re always so damn good at playing the victim, aren’t you? But you’re just as messy as everyone else. You’re not perfect.”

Luna flinches, but her chin juts up defiantly. “Don’t you dare—”

“No, you don’t get to act innocent,” Tavia snaps, stepping closer. “You’re the one who can’t shut those legs. You’re the one who screws up every time someone tries to get close to you.”

“That’s enough,” I interject, my voice cold.

Tavia turns to me, her eyes blazing with barely contained fury. She looks like a madwoman. “Stay the fuck out of this, Arden. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Like hell it doesn’t,” I say, my tone sharp. “You don’t get to come into this apartment, our apartment, and throw around accusations like that. To talk to Luna like that, especially when you’re wrong.”

Tavia’s jaw tightens, her fists clenching at her sides. “You think you’re protecting her, but you’re not. She doesn’t need you to save her, Arden. She never has.”

The words sting more than I care to admit, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I step between them, keeping my focus on Tavia.

“And what about you?” I ask evenly. “Is this how you ‘save’ her? By tearing her down every chance you get?”

Tavia’s eyes narrow, her lips curling into a cold smile. “Careful, Arden. You don’t know me well enough to start throwing stones from that glass house of yours.”

I don’t give myself enough time to wonder what the hell she means by that.

“And you don’t know me well enough to make threats,” I reply, my voice low and my own threat clear.

The tension between us is razor-sharp, the silence that follows heavy with unspoken challenges.

Good thing I fucking love challenges.

“Stop it,” Luna says suddenly, her voice breaking through the standoff. She steps forward, her hands trembling as she grabs my arm. “Arden, don’t. Please.”

I glance at her, my guard lowering slightly. She looks exhausted, the fire in her eyes dimmed and replaced with a fragile one.

Tavia exhales sharply, stepping back but not before leveling one last glare at Luna. “You two should just fuck each other and get it over with. I’m sick of coming second to this bitch ,” she says coldly. “I’m fucking out of here.”

With that, she turns and storms out, slamming the door behind her.

The silence she leaves behind is suffocating.

Luna sinks onto the couch, her head in her hands. “I hate her,” she mutters, her voice muffled.

“No, you don’t,” I say softly, sitting beside her.

She lifts her head, her eyes red-rimmed but dry. “I hate when she acts like that. She’s not always like this, I swear.”

I don’t say anything. There’s nothing to say that wouldn’t sound hollow.

After a moment, Luna sighs, leaning her head against my shoulder. “Thanks for stepping in. I hate involving other people in our shit. I know she’s a lot.”

“She’s more than a lot,” I reply, my tone lighter. “But you don’t deserve to have to deal with shit like that at all. And especially not alone.”

Luna lets out a weak laugh, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “I wish I didn’t have to deal with her at all. I’m really sorry that you had to get involved, and I’m really sorry about what she said to you.”

I bite back the urge to tell her to leave, knowing full well that no one ever walks away from something until they’re truly ready. I tried that with my mom, begged her to get clean for me. But she didn’t. Instead, she got rid of me.

But Luna isn’t my mom, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to stand by and let her face this alone.

“Do you want me to talk to her?” I offer instead, my voice steady but laced with an edge.

Luna snorts as she leans back against the couch. “That’s like sending a lion straight to its prey.” She shakes her head, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. “You’d eat her alive.”

I arch a brow, my tone dry. “If that’s what it takes.”

She lets out another soft laugh, this one less bitter. “As much as I’d love to see that, no. I’ll handle it. I was already planning to end things for good tonight before it went to shit.”

I nod, letting the silence settle between us. The fight has drained her, but she still wears her defiance like armor, even if it’s dented.

“Just say the word,” I say softly, standing and heading for the kitchen. “I’ve got your back, Luna. Always and forever, you know this.”

She doesn’t respond, but the tension in her shoulders eases slightly. It’s enough for now.

It has to be.