Page 104 of Conquering Oz

Elodie’s heart dropped to her stomach in a strangling twist, staring back at Camille. Her head was hung low, as if in shame. Her body seemed to curl inward, making her appear smaller than the woman who’d walked through the door.

“He didn’t tell you?” Camille’s voice was soft.

“No,” Elodie whispered, circling around the counter. As she got closer, Camille stepped back, looked up, and smiled. It was forced. An attempt to help Elodie feel at ease.

“I’m not really surprised. Oz is good at keeping secrets. Everyone’s. He’s like a vault. It’s impossible to get anything out of him.” Camille snorted. “Not that many people try.”

I did.

Elodie drove her hand through her hair, angling her head and staring at Camille.

“When he took me in, I was scared. With my uncle I kind of knew what to expect. But here was a total stranger. They all were—Oz, Rogue, and Trey. I was so anxious waiting for them to unleash on me like my uncle. Minutes, hours, days.” Camille paused. “I waited for it. But it never came.”

“You were twelve?”

Camille nodded, sighing. “Yeah.”

“What happened after Oz took you in?”

“He set me up in an apartment. I can still smell the lemon fragrance. It was so clean, and I wasn’t used to that. I barely slept the first few nights and refused to eat because I thought for sure they’d drugged my food. That’s how my uncle kept me in line. After the second day, Oz came to the apartment and sat with me until I ate. He actually took a few bites as if to show me it was safe. I probably would’ve starved myself if he hadn’t done that.” She snorted. “In more ways than one, he saved me.”

Camille was painting a picture of the Oz she knew, not the leader of the Underground.

“And then you started working for him?”

Camille smiled. “Yeah.”

“Doing what? You were only twelve.”

“I did a lot of cleaning. The office, the club. When I got a little older, I started counting cash. He set up a bank account and paid me each week. At eighteen, he handed it over to me, along with a choice. He was giving me an out.”

“That’s when you left?” Elodie asked.

Camille shook her head. “No. I stayed. It’s where I felt safe. Until I met Tracer, my husband. Oz gave me the choice again. Then I left.”

It was such a personal, tragic story. It wasn’t meant for strangers’ ears.

Elodie swallowed the knot in her throat. “Why are you telling me this?”

Camille glanced up. “Because not many people see the real Oz. He doesn’t show it except to a select few. I’m thinking you’re one of them.”

The shop was drowned in silence.

“I should get going. Tracer has me on a strict schedule. For a man so put together, he’s a nervous wreck since I got pregnant. Browsing at a boutique at ten is going to be a hard lie to pull off.” Camille laughed and started toward the door.

Elodie glanced over at the jewelry display, locking eyes on the dainty necklace Camille had been eyeing.

“Wait,” she snapped and rushed to the display, grabbing the necklace. She glanced over her shoulder to find Camille stopped in the middle of the store. She waved her to the counter and placed the necklace down. She bent over, grabbing a handful of tissue paper and gingerly wrapped it and placed it in a small bag.

“Now you have evidence you went shopping,” Elodie said, handing Camille the bag.

Camille stared at her hand but didn’t take it.

“I can pay for it.”

Elodie was shaking her head before Camille was finished talking.

“It’s a gift.”

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