Alma O'Malley, the head housekeeper of the Boone estate, drove Arlene back from the hospital. The Boones had ordered her discharged into their custody. Her dorm room was off-limits until they decided otherwise. The car ride was completely silent.
The heavy iron gates of the estate opened. The cold, damp air of the grounds seeped into the car. The massive stone house looked more like a tomb than a hospital.
Arlene walked through the front doors. Her legs still felt weak.
She walked into the main living room. Her half-sister, Barbra, sat on the velvet sofa with three other socialites. Delicate teacups rested on the table.
Barbra looked up. She dramatically pinched her nose. "God, what is that smell? Did a rat crawl out of the sewer?"
The other girls giggled behind their hands. Arlene kept her eyes on the floor and walked faster toward the stairs.
"Stop right there," Barbra snapped. "I heard you put on quite a show at the Black Rabbit. Begging for pennies on your knees?"
Arlene grabbed the wooden banister. Her nails dug into the polished wood. She didn't say a word. She just kept climbing.
She reached the tiny attic room where the Boones kept her things when she wasn't at school. She sat on the lumpy mattress. Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
It was a text from Clara: Are you okay? The whole campus is talking about you.
Arlene let out a shaky breath. She started to type a reply when she remembered the estate security guard she had just passed in the hallway. He had been quietly speaking into his lapel mic, his eyes tracking her every move as she climbed the stairs. He was definitely reporting her arrival to someone. Another message popped up from an unknown number.
Stay put.
Her heart skipped a beat. She knew exactly who it was. Hardie. How had he gotten her number?
A fresh wave of fear hit her. He had access to everything.
She heard the crunch of tires on the gravel driveway below. She walked to the small attic window and looked down.
Cornelius Boone's black town car parked by the fountain.
Arlene realized she hadn't had a drop of water since she got back. Her throat felt like sandpaper. She cracked her door open and crept down the stairs from the attic. As she reached the second-floor landing, the voices from the foyer below drifted up, sharp and clear.
Denita Boone's sharp voice echoed. "Hardie has finally agreed. Camilla is a good girl."
Cornelius sounded pleased. "The merger will benefit both families. We'll throw a massive engagement party next month."
Arlene's chest tightened. A sharp pain radiated through her ribs. Hardie was getting married? To Camilla Knowles?
She thought about the way Hardie looked at her in the hospital. The intense, suffocating possession in his eyes. It made her sick.
He didn't care about her. He just wanted to control her like a disobedient pet because he was the head of the family.
Barbra's voice chimed in. "What about Arlene? She embarrassed us in front of the Prescotts."
Delbert Boone's cold voice cut through the chatter. "Throw her out of the main house. I don't want to see her face before the engagement."
Arlene sank against the wall. She slid down until she hit the floor. Her eyes were dry.
She was less than garbage to them.
She pushed herself up and ran back to her room. She grabbed her canvas backpack. She shoved two pairs of jeans, a few shirts, and her small envelope of cash inside.
Her phone lit up again. The same unknown number flashed on the screen.
She stared at the screen. Her thumb hovered over the red button. She let it ring until it went to voicemail.
She zipped up the bag. She had to leave tonight.
The wind howled outside, rattling the thin glass of the attic window.
