Exhausted, the Princeton brothers finally got back to their apartment at two o’clock in the morning. None, however, bothered to go into their own rooms to rest. They were too agitated and needed future discussion as to how to proceed with finding Sakura. Beth decided to make her appearance once she heard their voices, along with her bland coffee, which for once, the brothers actually appreciatively took.

“Thanks, Beth, you’re the best,” Conrad said. “Any cake left?”

Beth shook her head. “You boys been busy all day, huh? No time for dinner?”

With the brothers’ solemn look, Beth blinked and quickly went about searching for her leftover teacake the boys loved so much.

Conrad released another depressing sigh, and Tristan slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll find her.”

A few moments later, Beth reappeared with the teacake. The brothers helped themselves to it as Beth watched. She wondered what was wrong with them. Yes, they should be tired after the long day at the hotel, what with the fashion show and all. But they shouldn’t look as though they’d just seen a ghost or lost something very precious to them.

Nicolas raised his head and said to Beth, “We saw Sakura.”

Beth gasped, and without warning, tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. “Are you sure, Master Nicolas?”

With Nicolas’s nod, Beth drew in a shaky breath. “My God,” she murmured under her breath. “Where is she staying? Is she doing well? Will she come to visit?”

Sebastian shook his head and said gruffly, “She ran off.”

“What?”

“It’s like she doesn’t what to see us at all,” Conrad said. “Maybe last year was just too much for her and seeing us again just reminded her of the incidents.”

At those words, Darcy gritted his teeth and said, “I’m going to my loft. See you guys tomorrow.” With that, he left the room in a hurry.

Sebastian watched him go, a constricted feeling in the pit of his stomach. He took another sip of his bland coffee and sighed. “I’m going to bed. We can discuss Sakura tomorrow.”

He was just walking out the door when Beth said, “Ned lives in New York. Maybe he knows where Sakura is.”

Sebastian halted in his spot and spun around so fast it made Beth dizzy. Nicolas, Tristan, Logan, Hayden, and Conrad looked up to the housekeeper in unison.

“What did you just say?” Sebastian demanded. “Ned lives in New York? Why didn’t you mention that before?”

Beth blinked and said, “Well, he was always living in New York. He travels a lot, too. Though his homes are always in New York and St. Joseph Island. But since Sakura’s disappearance, he hadn’t contacted me until a few weeks ago. I caught up with him one Sunday, and I never thought to ask if he knows about Sakura.”

“Aren’t they very close?” Hayden asked suspiciously. “He taught her painting, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Beth said. “They are very close.”

“In that case, Beth,” Nicolas said calmly, “we’ll need you to invite Ned for afternoon tea. Preferably tomorrow.”

“Well, that was lucky,” Beth said. “Since I demanded he give me his cell phone number. I might add he was very reluctant about it.”

Tristan laughed. “Good for you, Beth. I’m glad we have you.”

Logan said, “Now I’m just hoping Ned can help us.”

“Or better yet,” Hayden put in, “knows where she is.”

“Good,” Sebastian said. “Good night, everyone.”

“Night, Seb,” the brothers said in unison.

Sebastian headed into his room and crashed on the bed. He closed his eyes and felt his heart constrict.

“Sakura,” he whispered under his breath. “Come home, sweetheart. Please, just come home.”

* * * * *

 

Darcy turned off the engine, got out, and slammed the door shut. He headed to the trunk and took out the painting he’d bought from Tanaka’s gallery. With the securely wrapped art under his arm, he headed to the door and up the stairs where his loft was located.

A few moments later, he let himself in. After placing the art carefully against the wall, he went about showering. Once refreshed, his dark hair wet, and wearing only loose trousers and his toned torso bare, he returned with a bottle of water in his hand.

He took a big gulp as he stared at the wrapped painting long and hard. Then as if he couldn’t help himself, he ripped the brown paper, revealing the exquisite painting beneath. Slowly, he caressed the paper canvas, tracing the lines and feeling the rough texture of the paint of the pink blossoms. It again reminded him of Sakura and the cherry blossom tree in the woods, and a lump formed in his throat.

“Sakura,” he said softly under his breath. “Come back. Please come back, sweetheart.”

* * * * *