Page 1 of Phantom Mine

Prologue

Valentina

A little over a year and a half ago

There’s nothing quite like a self-care day after a trying week. A little wine, a little candle, a comfy hoodie, some killer snacks, I mean, there’s really nothing like it.

And I’m proud to say, there’s no one better at assuming the self-care position than me.

I’m sitting on the couch of our Airbnb, my leg bent and placed in front of me, my fingers gingerly clutching the corner of a wax strip I slapped on my shin, my eyes glued to the TV as I wait to find out if Rachel got off the plane.

Spoiler, I already know she did—I’ve seen every episode ofFriendsa cool fifty times—but the moment of suspense before the big reveal never gets old. Real romance might be dead and buried, but at least I’ll always have fiction to keep me company in my unmarried old age.

I’m pretty sure my lips are parted as I wait with bated breath for the big reunion. I’ve got the perfect hold on the wax strip andan angle of attack to minimize the pain, all I need is to muster up the courage to yank and it’ll be over before I know it.

Easy, peasy, pain-free.

Hopefully.

“Did she get off the plane?”Ross demands, pressing every button on his phone to try and hear the rest of the message that doesn’t exist.“Did she get off the plane?!”

Ugh, this part issogood.

There’s a sheen of tears in my eyes and thoughts about how yearning in men is so hot on my mind when the front door bursts open, surprising me.

I shriek, caught off guard, and accidentally yank the wax strip clean off without any mental preparation.

There’s a pause, and then the pain hits.

I shriek again, this time for an altogether different reason, and fall back onto the couch, clutching my leg to my chest.

“Puta madre,” I curse at the searing burn.

An hour’s worth of hard self-care work gone right out of the window, just like that.

“What the hell, Adri?” I say, peeking through my lashes to look at my best friend, adoptive sister, and roommate.

“Valentina,” she says, breathless.

I groan, sitting up and reaching for the remote to pause the episode.

“Oh god, using my government name. What’s up?”

“I don’t want you to panic, Leni, but I’ve just seen the sun.” She walks over to the window in the front room of our flat and presses both palms dramatically against the pane to emphasize her point. “Thesun. The sun is out. Can you believe it?”

What we’ve learned thus far in our two weeks here is that London iswet. Even when the sun is supposedly out, it’s half hidden behind the clouds and the air is still damp and misty.

For two girls from Colombia, it’s been an absolute culture shock being here and hampered by the unforgiving weather. Not to mention the absolutely devastating effect the humid weather is having on our hair.

“Look at her, isn’t she so beautiful?” Adri coos, now nearly hugging the window. “I haven’t seen her in so long, I missed her, Leni.” She whips around, giving me one of her signature mischievous grins. “Grab your stuff, we’re going for a picnic at our spot.” She starts humming and twirling around the apartment, reinvigorated by the promise of some vitamin D. “I think after the picnic we should do some sort of dance in thanks to the sun, kind of like they do inThe Proposal.”

“Only if ours is also to Lil Jon,” I say, before adding, “But unfortunately, I’m very busy.” I point to the wax strips, bottles of nail polish, and under eye masks strewn across the table. “I have big self-care plans for the rest of the afternoon.”

She parks her hand on her hip and lifts an unimpressed brow at me. “If you get any paler, you’ll be see-through, Leni.Papáwouldn’t even recognize you if he saw you right now.” Her voice drops into that authoritarian tone she gets when she’s made up her mind. “We’re going for a picnic.”

I try to look outraged but fail, and a resigned laugh leaves me instead. “Okay, okay, you win. Give me fifteen minutes?”

Her warm, chocolate-brown eyes twinkle at her victory. “Ten,” she counters.

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