Page 89 of Her Counterfeit Christmas
“I loved having you. You are a gift to my family, even if it was only for a week.”
That is one of the sweetest, most earnest complimentsI’ve received. I’m sad I’ll never see her again. This is goodbye forever.
“Goodbye, Rheta.”
“Goodbye, Layla.”
As I walk through her room, into the hallway, and up to my room, the familiar weight of financial ruin settles on my shoulders, yet I feel lighter after breaking off my engagement than I have all week.
Chapter Twenty-Two
OWEN
I couldn’t findLayla or Tori last night. I sent multiple texts to them both, but no answer. They are definitely avoiding me. The family has a meeting scheduled with Grandmother and her lawyer at ten to discuss the updated will, and I need to talk to Layla before that happens.
I send her another text after my shower. No response. I stop by her room, but there’s no answer at my knock. I head downstairs for breakfast. She’s usually the first to arrive. Hopefully, I can convince her to reconvene in the hall closet for a few minutes.
The breakfast room is empty. Servers come in and place food on the side table. While I wait for Layla to arrive, I notice the snow outside. White covers the trees. It’s a scene from a Christmas card, and I can’t wait until Layla arrives so I can share this beautiful view with her. If she’ll even talk with me.
I get impatient waiting, so I stop one of the staff. She won’t know where Layla is, but she will know where I can find Miles, and Miles knows everything.
“Can you tell me where Miles is right now?”
“He left for the airport a while ago,” she says.
“The airport. Why?” I can’t imagine anyone in my family leaving hours before Grandmother hands out twenty million dollar checks.
“Layla’s flying back to Salt Lake City.”
Layla left? Why? Something must have happened for her to leave a day early. The entire purpose of getting engaged to Spencer yesterday was to get the extra money. Maybe her grandma’s health took a turn. Or something is wrong with one of her roommates.
Then I have to wonder if this person even knows who Layla is. Maybe she’s mistaken, and I’m getting worked up for no reason.
“You know Layla?”
A nod. “She said goodbye before she left.”
Of course, Layla would say goodbye to the staff. She sees people that others, myself included, don’t. What hurts is she didn’t say goodbye to me. If nothing else, we’re still friends. Or maybe, by the way she’s been ignoring my texts, we’re not?
“Do you know why she left? Sorry, what is your name?”
“Hannah. She didn’t say specifically, just that it was time for her to leave.”
“Thanks, Hannah.”
I shoot off another text to Layla, but if her flight has already taken off, then I might not get an answer for hours. If she answers at all.
I head to the office to find Spencer. It’s empty, so I take the steps two at a time on my way to his bedroom. Mom and Brady come down the stairs on my way up.
“What’s up with you?” Brady asks.
Mom’s brow wrinkles with concern. “Did something happen?”
“I’ll explain later.”
I bang on Spencer’s bedroom door. When he opens, he’s shirtless, his hair disheveled like I woke him up. This might be the first time he’s ever slept past seven o’clock.
“What?” His lip curls. “Come to rub it in?”
