“Pretzel position,” he said, sliding into me bareback, his smirk dreamy and taunting all at once.

“Never heard of it,” I murmured.

“Well, I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

By the time I arrived at my shift, sans Roman, who’d gone to pick up his Harley from El Dorado and train Beck, I felt normal. More like myself. Less like the monster I’d wanted to be yesterday.

Before we parted ways, Bane kissed me in front of the entire café. It felt like a statement. A statement that lacked words, but said the same thing that I’d said to him that morning.

He’d stroked my cheek. “We need to talk tonight. After you’re done with Mrs. B. Promise me you’ll go to her from here, then straight to the houseboat.”

I nodded. I got it. He didn’t want me to clash with Pam. I didn’t, either.

“Pinky promise.”

“Straight back home,” he’d warned one last time.

I’d watched him as he jumped into Beck’s car to pick up his Harley.

And I’d felt it. The strength to do what needed to be done. To overcome Shadow’s death, and everything else life had thrown at me the past few years.

What I didn’t know was that this sudden strength was essential.

Because that evening, the princess had to wield her sword.

And finally slay all of her demons.

My shift zinged by. I was grateful to be occupied with work, because it prevented me from obsessing over Shadow. But Shadow wasn’t the only problem I had to deal with.

Where am I going to live?

Will I ever be able to forgive Pam?

Should I cut ties with Darren, now, too?

Is Mrs. Belfort going to be okay?

And perhaps the biggest question of them all, the one that had been swimming in my head since the flashback had started: who was the person that smelled of vodka? The one who made me subconsciously fill my room with Polaroids of people’s backs.

When I finished my shift, I had four missed calls. Two from Pam, one from Darren, and one from Roman. I figured Pam wanted to apologize because she was scared I was going to kill myself and that would stain her precious reputation, and Darren was going to plea her “she ith jutht worried about you” case. I wasn’t in the mood for the charade, so I only returned Roman’s call.

“Headed to Mrs. Belfort’s?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Just remember, do your thing, give her kids grief for being assholes, and come straight home. This can’t wait another day.”

“You’re making me nervous.” He was. I couldn’t bear any more bad news, but Roman was adamant we do this face-to-face. “Is it bad?”

He gave it some thought, not exactly what I was hoping for, before saying, “Straight back home.”

Home. Like his home was mine.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said.

“Bye,” I said. I love you, I added to myself. And I’m scared.

I arrived at Mrs. Belfort’s and headed straight to her kitchen. Kacey was holding a cup of tea, and Mrs. Belfort was eating an apple pie, crumbs adorning her chin and coat. Ryan sat opposite to them, taking slow sips from a bottle of beer. They all looked up at me at once. I walked over and sat down in the spare chair.

“Hi. I’m Jesse.”

“We know who you are. Your boyfriend’s infamous, so getting a call from him was not exactly uplifting. This better be good,” Ryan scolded quietly. Neither of Mrs. Belfort’s kids resembled her. They were blond, tall, and completely unrelated to the warm woman I’d grown to love. I stood up, folding my arms over my chest. “We need to talk in private. All three of us.”

Mrs. Belfort looked up from her apple pie, her eyes wondrous and a little hurt.

“Imane,” I twisted my head, calling her housekeeper, “can you please keep Juliette company while we go to the dining room?”

Five minutes later, it was just Kacey, Ryan, and I. I sat across from them and felt grossly ill-equipped to help someone else—hell, I couldn’t even help myself—but I loved Juliette too much to see her neglected by her kids.

“Your mother has Alzheimer’s,” I said flatly.

“She also has a lot of assistance, as you can see.” Ryan waved his hand around an invisible staff. I took a deep, measured breath.

“She has some lucid moments. She knows that she is dying. She knows that her disease is eating away at her ability to function. She knows her kids are all the way across the country, with their heads buried in the sand.”

“We’ve been told that there’s nothing we can do,” Kacey, who wore a sharp suit and was a lawyer, jumped into the conversation, adding, “I can’t take her with me. I have a kid at home and a sixty-hour job. I just can’t.”

“I have a family, and I work for the biggest advertising company in Boston,” Ryan chipped in with his own sob story. I saw so many similarities between them and Pam. How they didn’t want to take responsibility for their own families, even though Juliette had raised them. Even though Pam was my mother. And then I thought about all the responsibilities I hadn’t taken, either. Refraining from taking Shadow to the vet sooner. Not reporting the men who did what they’d done to me and letting them get away with it, knowing that they were a ticking bomb waiting to explode on someone else. They’d gotten away with it once. They were going to do it again. I laced my fingers together and dragged my chair forward until my abs hit the table, drawing out the weapon I dreaded to use. The one that could have brought them over in a heartbeat if I’d had the balls to just tell them on the phone.

“Mrs. Belfort changed her will.”

“Huh?” Ryan scrunched his nose and slumped in his chair like a punished schoolboy. For the first time since we’d stepped into the dining room, his eyes were peeled off his phone screen.

I nodded solemnly. “She wants to give everything to me.”

“She is not lucid!” Kacey jumped, standing up on her feet and slapping the table.

I shook my head. “She was when she changed the will. And her medical staff knows it.”

“This is ridiculous!” Ryan screamed, still tucked snug in his chair. Kacey wiggled a threatening finger in my face, leaning close. “I heard all about you, Jesse Carter. I know you came from the slums. If you think you can cheat your way into my family fortune…”

“I don’t want the money,” I said wryly, because I didn’t. I didn’t care about anyone’s money. The correlation between having money and being happy seemed to have the opposite effect. As far as I was aware, the most miserable people I knew were filthy rich. And maybe it was because of my complete lack of interest in money that everyone around me was so eager to throw it at me. Darren and Juliette seemed to have that in common. “I want you to take responsibility for the person who gave all of herself to raise you.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Ryan huffed.

“I want her to move in with Kacey, because I know her apartment is big enough.” I turned from the woman in front of me and continued. “And you, Ryan, should take two weekends a month to drive down to New York and spend time with your mom. Let her see her grandchildren. And I want Imane and her nurse to move to New York with her. They already said yes.”

They stared at me like I was the devil. To them, maybe I was. I was tired of people not owning up to what they needed to do, and that included myself. It was time for a change. It was time to stop sitting on the sidelines of my life, watching it pass. “I’m also happy to give up every single penny Mrs. Belfort wants to give me—I have only known her for about two years, since…” It doesn’t matter, I tried to tell myself, only it did. I needed to start looking reality in the eye if I wanted to truly face it. “Since I went through something that changed my entire perspective about people and how you should treat them. I will give up all the money, reserving a very small budget for myself.”

Ryan snorted, shaking his head. “Of course.”

I continued, raising my voice. “A small budget that will go toward visiting her every other month, to make sure that she is happy with you guys.”

Stunned silence fell over the room. They looked at each other with such exasperation, I thought they were going to say no. And then what? The thought of moving in with Mrs. B occurred to me. But I wanted to put some space between Pam and me. Besides, Mrs. B didn’t need me. She needed her family.

“I never realized things were that bad.” Kacey’s gaze dropped to her folded hands on the table. She sat back down, seemingly humbled by arguing with a twenty-year-old over her mother’s fortune. “I mean, I would talk to her on the phone a few times every month and usually she’d talk like my dad was still alive. I didn’t know she had any idea what was going on.”

“She does.” I sniffed, scrapping an invisible stain from the table.

“Does she still go to the maze?” Ryan interrupted, his voice no longer hostile, although still edgy.

I shook my head. “I go there now.”

“That’s where they fell in love,” Kacey commented, and my heart skipped a beat at her words. It was where I’d fallen in love, too. “My dad and her. This mansion belonged to his family. She was the gardener’s daughter. He used to go there all the time. That’s where they met. That’s where they fell in love.” Kacey took a shaky breath, a tear rolling down her cheek. “That’s where I was conceived, and that’s why we are all here.”

I have no regrets. I loved fully, I remembered Mrs. Belfort saying.

I smiled to myself. “She is the best company I’ve had in years.”

Ryan stood up and looked at his sister, who did the same. Something passed between them I couldn’t interpret. They asked for an hour, which I was happy to give them. I spent the time sitting at the dining table, alone, thinking about everything and nothing.

After an hour, Kacey sauntered back into the room. Alone. She looked like she’d been crying. I wished I had a brother to hold me when I did.