Page 10 of The Vipers and Their Venom

If Reagan loves her father and is devoted to him, she might not appreciate being told he’d stolen her from her mother, or that he’d threatened to bash her head in when she was a newborn.

Maybe I should have told my father the truth, but I promised Mom on her deathbed that I wouldn’t tell him about the baby, and I intend to keep that promise.

“These are the residents’ quarters for West House,” the dean is saying, “which is the house Ivani will be in. We havefour houses here at Verona Falls, and we often use them as opportunities for a little fun competition.”

I wonder what kind of competition he means.

The dean continues, “Ivani can get her schedule from Mrs. Tarnowski at student reception. I can’t see any reason she can’t get started this afternoon, after lunch break, unless you feel you need a rest after your travels, Ivani?”

I blink at him. “No, I’m fine.”

He shows us up to what will be my room, opening the door so we can step inside.

The space is bare but comfortable. I wish I’d brought a few more personal items from home to make it my own, but I could only fit what could be carried on the back of a bike. My dad brought some of it with him, but I didn’t want to load up the whole MC with my stuff.

I set down my bags, and so does my dad.

“I guess this is where we say goodbye,” he says, opening his arms to me.

A painful lump knots in my throat, and I find myself choking back tears. I don’t want to cry in front of the dean.

Mr. Rossi seems to realize this, and he nods and backs out of the room. “I’ll give you some privacy. Come and find me in my office if you have any questions, Ivani.”

“Thanks,” I mutter.

The door closes, and I step into my dad’s embrace. He kisses the top of my head.

“You know you can always come home,” he says.

“Thanks, Dad. I’m an adult now, though. I need to figure out how to manage without you guys.”

“No, you don’t. The club will always be there for you, no matter how far away you are, or how old you are. We are your family, and we always will be, no matter what.”

I smile. “What would I do without you?”

I hope I never have to find out.

He hugs and kisses me again, and then leaves, closing the door softly behind him. Leaving me alone in this room. A few minutes later, the familiar roar of bike engines meets my ears. My room doesn’t face the front of the building—instead it looks out onto woodland and a running track—so I can’t even go to the window to watch them go, but I can hear it. The growl grows louder, and I picture the bikes turning in a coordinated loop, before the combined roar grows fainter again as they wind their way back down the long driveway.

As the sound dies away, a hollow emptiness fills the spaces inside me, dark and scary.

I really am alone now.

I give myself a shake. No, I’m not. There’s a good chance that somewhere in this building is my sister. All I have to do is find her.

I have two choices—lie on my bed and cry, and give in to that emptiness threatening to swallow me whole, or pick myself up and go find my schedule.

I decide to go with the latter.

Creeping back out of my room, I head back to the first floor.

I’m self-conscious in a way I’m not used to, but I smile at everyone I pass, searching their faces for any signs of recognition. Will Reagan look like my mom? Or will she even look like me? I wish I’d been able to find a photograph of her online, but the Olsen family is not the kind to have social media accounts or deliberately get in the public eye. I’m good with computers, and if there had been something to find, I would have found it. Of course, this place doesn’t have student pictures anywhere either, because no mafia family wants their kids in a college yearbook.

Most people either glare at me or ignore me completely. I’m going to need some friends in this place—not only because Idon’t want to be lonely, but also because if I’m going to find my sister, I’m going to need to ask some subtle questions.

6

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