Page 40 of Fractured Loyalties
Please tell me he’s not missing, too.
“You need a proper wardrobe,” Robert says, voice dropping lower, almost gentle. “Something that fits how you want to be seen as in this community. Something that makes people understand that you are a Woods, even if only by marriage.”
My heart trips over itself. For a second, I think he’s making fun of me, but then I realize there’s a softness to his words that wasn’t there before.
Does he actually mean it?
Irena turns toward me, and for the first time all evening, her hand finds my arm. The touch is brief but electric. “I’ll take you shopping after school tomorrow,” she says. “We’ll find you something perfect. It will be… fun.” Her lips curl in what might be a smile, but I can’t trust my own eyes.
I sit there frozen, my fork still halfway to my mouth, not sure how to respond. My throat feels tight. “Um, thank you. That would be nice, I think.”
Irena gives my arm the lightest squeeze and then lets go. Robert nods, satisfied, and returns to his meal.
I try to eat, but my stomach is suddenly churning with nerves. I almost feel as if I’m waiting for the punchline of a joke that isn’t coming.
And again…Where is Roman? Why doesn’t he have to be here? Is he…okay? Why do I care?
I finish my dinner in silence, forcing myself to eat about sixty percent of the food on my plate. Then, I fold my napkin, take a drink of water, and sigh.
When I look up, both Irena and Robert are watching me. Not with pity, not even with contempt, but with something like approval.
“If you’re finished,” Irena smiles. “You may go.”
I nod and then stand, my knees nearly buckling as I clear my throat. “Thank you,” I say again. “I really appreciate it.”
Robert grunts, but there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. Irena rises, too, and brushes invisible crumbs from her skirt. She tilts her head at me, almost conspiratorial.
“Itwillbe fun to go shopping tomorrow,” she repeats. “You’ll see.”
I nod one more time, and then slip from the room, trying to figure out what the hell was happening at dinner… And why Roman’s absence was just…ignored. I mean, hadn’t Edward said Robert wanted it to be a family dinner?
As I scamper toward my room, I hear the muffled echo of Robert’s laugh behind me, profound and surprising. In the empty hallway, I let myself breathe. I’m still not sure if they’re playing a cruel trick on me or actually trying to be kind.
I don’t like confusion.
And you know what? I still don’t like ithourslater, when I’m lying in my bed. Istillcan’t stop replaying that moment at dinner when Irena’s hand squeezed my arm—almost as if she meant it—and the way Robert’s voice lost its edge, even if it was only for a sentence.
Why are they suddenly being nice? Did Roman get kicked out of the family?
I turn it over and over, looking for the catch, the hidden blade. Maybe it’s just a survival instinct, or perhaps I’m not ready to trust them. I don’t know.
But I know that the more I think about it, the more I think about Roman… And what he did. To me. In the library.
No. Nope. You do not have to think about that, Ivy. We can just pretend it never happened.
I force my brain to slow down. The world outside the window is silent, and my mind needs to just freaking join in the party.
So, I shut my eyes, try to count sheep to the slow ticking of the clock down the hall. Surprisingly, the tacticactuallyworks. I’m so freaking overwhelmed and stressed that my body is soon drowning in fatigue.
My eyes grow heavy, my breathing slows, and the sheep fade…
Until I hearsomething.
My eyes flicker wide open, and pinpricks sneak down my arms. I tune my ear to the sounds of the room, waiting and listening.
For a long moment, nothing happens—my pulse thuds at my temple. I’m about to chalk it up to a mouse outside my door or something when I hear an unmistakable sound—the slow, careful turn of my doorknob.
What. The. Fuck.
