Page 12 of Shattered Hearts

“You knew what he was doing to her,” Stella says, turning at the sound of Willow’s voice.

“Not that. Not any of it. Not until it came up in the news. He’s my son. I knew he wasn’t right, and all those movies and TV shows about parents who are afraid to admit something is wrong with their child, it’s true. It scares you deep in your bones. No mother wants to know her child is capable of such things.”

She stands beside the couch wearing lounging pants and a loose long-sleeved shirt. Her hair’s damp but it’s already starting to dry into sleek waves, and her eyes are dark, like Zarah’s, but compared to Zarah’s bronzed skin, hers is a pasty white, evidence of lack of sunshine. The only hint of color is a light pink lipstick on her lips. A slim black ankle monitor peeks out from under the hem of her pants. Her feet are bare, and her toenails are painted a color that matches her lips. She’d be pretty if it wasn’t for the lines on her face, but I refuse to believe she’s suffered. Not when I can bump into a vase that costs more than what I make in two years.

“Mr. Davenport. I’m surprised to see you here, but after hearing you’re dating Zarah, I suppose it was bound to happen.”

“You suppose?”

“You want answers. I’m afraid I don’t have them.”

“I don’t know what the questions are. Do you?”

“I would like to know how Zarah’s doing. I tried to call but she never answered, and there’s no one else I can ask.”

“She’s fine.” My voice is clipped. Willow doesn’t need to know anything about my fiancée.

I stop. I asked Zarah to marry me and she said yes. I fight the stupid grin that wants to inappropriately spread across my face. Now’s not the time to be happy about it.

Stella wipes the smile off my mouth real fast.

“No, she’s not fine. She had a major setback. That’s why we’re here. We were hoping you could tell us something. Anything that could help her recovery.”

Willow tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and a diamond stud twinkles in her earlobe. “I’m sorry to hear that. You must be reaching to come to me. I can assure you I know nothing of the time Zarah spent at Quiet Meadows.”

“How did you know that’s what Stella was referring to?” I ask, my attention sharp.

“She spent five years under their roof. Do you think anyone spends that much time in a looney bin and comes out sane?”

I think of JodiAnne, Marci, and even Savannah Mesa. They were treated for God knows how long, and it didn’t seem like it helped at all.

“Zarah didn’t need to be there,” I point out. “She was perfectly fine before Zane left her to rot in that room.”

Stella frowns, but I won’t take back my words. She wouldn’t take them back, either. She knows they’re true.

“Are you sure about that?” Willow asks, crossing her arms and tapping a foot. “I was there the night she snapped.”

“Because—” It was because of Ash in the first place, but she beats me to the jab.

“I realize my son was the cause. But be that as it may, that doesn’t negate the fact poor Zarah had a shock, that, even if my son hadn’t kept her prisoner at that sanatorium, she may never have recovered from. She was a babbling, desperate creature attacking her brother.”

“I’ve seen the clip.” And I get nauseated every time I watch it.

“Then you know how dreadful it was, and you’ll never prove she would be fine now.”

She’s right. Zarah watched Ash kidnap Stella, and no one will ever know if she would have bounced back.

Willow continues, “In fact, it may have been better that my son kept her there. What would her emotional state have been like if she’d been free while Ashton hid Stella for all that time?”

“She could have exposed Ash and what he’d done. Stella wouldn’t have been his prisoner for nearly as long. Certainly not five years.”

Willow raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Really? You think anyone would have listened to a deranged little girl who attacked her brother during the biggest event of the year?Please.I’m married to the most powerful man in the United States—”

“He used to be,” I cut in.

She tilts her head, tapping a forefinger against her lips, acknowledging my interruption, then keeps going, “—and no one would have listened to me if I’d said a house was burning down and they could see it with their own eyes. A woman is a useless tool. We aren’t loved—we’re fucked. And fucked over. Stella understands, don’t you? How often does Zane listen to anything you have to say? When does he ask your advice? Share his problems? How many times do you threaten him, withhold sex, give him the silent treatment, all so he’ll see you as more than a dumb blonde?”

I heard Stella threaten to leave Zane if he didn’t let me in. That happened just last night. Is Willow right? How often does she do that to force Zane to listen to her?

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