Page 24 of Hunting Pretty

“They’re just hallways and rooms,” Dr. Vale told me when I dared to bring it up. “Stop making them into labyrinths and dungeons.”

Ebony poured me a glass of wine from a crystal decanter and asked if the fire was warm enough. She had a glass of wine with every meal for as long as I could remember.

As soon as I turned eighteen last year, she started pouring me a glass, too.

“Your hands feel cold,” she said, taking one of mine in her strong surgeon’s hands.

“I’m grand.” I tugged my hand back into my lap, trying not to notice the flash of disappointment in her eyes.

There was something wrong with me.

I wanted affection. I did.

I wanted a family. A mother. People who loved me.

But there was a gaping hole in my soul. A part of me that felt broken. Alone. Lost.

Like there was a part missing.

Ebony poured herself a glass of wine and swilled the thick maroon liquid in the glinting Swarovski crystal glass. “I’m sorry you couldn’t find the voice message from your friend.”

I stiffened.

I could never tell with Ebony if she was being sincere.

She sounded concerned but there was always something stilted in her demeanor, like she wasn’t sure how to show affection. Or maybe she just used too much Botox.

Ebony took a sip and nodded with satisfaction before pouring more of the wine. “I’m sure wherever Liath has gone, she’s doing fine.”

“Can we talk about something else?” I said, trying not to scowl.

I hadn’t lost Liath’s voice message.

Someone deleted it.

Even sitting on the phone for three hours with the phone company and going through three levels of management couldn’t get me a copy of that recording. I knew they kept that stuff.

Thankfully Mr. O’Rourke, the McKinsey family butler, marched into the dining room at that moment with twoporcelain bowls of a green soup that smelled of peas and fresh mint on a silver tray.

His hunched back gave him the perpetual look of humble servitude, but he was a prickly asshole to anyone but Ebony, whom he adored like she was his own daughter.

He bowed when Ebony thanked him, but my thanks went unacknowledged as he lurched away.

Mr. O’Rourke only appeared in the main house when Ebony was here.

When she wasn’t, he slunk away to the servants’ building separate from the main house. Like I wasn’t worth acknowledging.

Suited me fine.

I didn’t like his deaf, grumpy ass anyway.

The mint and pea soup was one of Ebony’s favorite, a perfect blend of savory chicken stock, sweetness from the peas, and the refreshing herby zing of mint, thick slices of sourdough slathered in Kerrygold butter on the side.

But I could barely taste it.

I was thinking about the trap I’d laid out earlier for my stalker.

I was ready for when he showed up.

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