Page 1 of Arden and the Girl Downstairs

Arden

My pacing is interrupted by incoming footsteps. I’m surprised I haven’t worn a hole in the floor by now. I feel like I’ve done nothing but pace the waiting room for the last seventy-two hours. My head’s a mess, I can’t remember the last time I ate, and I’m in desperate need of a shower. But I’m not leaving. I forced everyone else home to nap and shower. Even though we’ve moved into the new house, none of us have actually slept there yet. Everyone has been here.

Waiting.

Waiting for answers.

Now that Julia is out of her coma, I should feel relieved, and the pacing should have stopped. But it hasn’t.

It’s gotten worse.

She doesn’t blame me.

But I blame myself.

I should’ve been there for her when she needed me. She’s my little sister, and I’m supposed to look after her.

No one knows what to say to make me feel any different. Honestly, I don’t think there is anything anyonecansay.

I’m always in control.

Ineedto be.

It’s why my friends let me take over and do what I need to do. It calms me. I can’t explain it, but my brain is wired in a way that requires me to feel in control.

I couldn’t control what happened to Julia, but it doesn’t matter. Try telling my brain that.

I failed her.

Ralph sent me from the room when he noticed my mood was changing again—she might be awake, but she’s still not well. Her kidneys aren’t functioning properly at the moment. They think the infection is what may have contributed to the diabetic coma she slipped into.

She doesn’t look like herself; she’s pale and fragile, and every time I see her, I break a little bit more. The ice around my heart tightens.

If only I had been there.

She hasn’t been with it enough to tell us what happened, but Millie filled me in as much as possible. The poor girl had to witness her best friend slip into a coma. As much as I would have preferred it was me there, I’m glad Julia wasn’t alone.

The approaching footsteps stop to my left, and I glance up.

Dad.

He’s finally here. They were in Paris when Ralph called him to tell him what had happened. I know Dad was doing everything he could to get back here as soon as possible.

I let Ralph handle the conversations with Dad. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to talk to him without completely losing it.

I take in the man before me. On the outside, there isn’t a hair out of place; he’s dressed in a three-piece suit, his tie perfectly straight. However, if you look closely, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes and the worry lines that seem permanently etched into his skin.

“Dad,” I say formally. When Dad was around, he demanded formality and the attention of the room. Even though I’m his son, I still address him in a formal manner. It shows him respect—I understand that now. Growing up, not so much. I hated it.

Some of my personality traits are a carbon copy of his, but I learned from a young age the type of person I didn’t want to be, thanks to him. I wanted people to respect me because I earned their respect, not because it was demanded.

“What’s this I hear about you arguing with the doctors?” I laugh at his question. He relaxes a little, his demeanour giving away the fact that he isn’t being serious—he’s not actually pissed that I was arguing with them. Dad can be scary, and if he was here earlier, he’d have done the same thing, only with more chance of making a difference.

“If they weren’t so incompetent, I wouldn’t be arguing with them.” Dad gives me a quick hug and sits in one of the chairs in the room. I take a seat opposite him. That brief show of affection is the best I’m going to get from him, but that’s okay. I know he loves me.

“What have they been saying?” he asks me, concerned, his frown lines deepening. “Ralph kept me updated, but I want to hear it from you before I go and pick up where you left off,” he says with a smirk. It makes me happy that Dad not only has my back but has made the time to discuss things with me first, before deciding the next course of action.

Whatever Ralph already told him would be exactly what had happened. Dad was paying Ralph’s wage up until three years ago, when I started using my own money to pay him. Ralph’s loyalty lies with the family, but he quickly became my security guy, and I’ve always known that I want him to work for me when I start my own company.

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