I t's weeks since we came back from Eden, and I'm wondering when it ends. Things are so much better than I ever expected at home .

There's time to settle in, catch our breath before the big day. I spend the evenings with Cade and the wedding planner he's hired when I'm not at the university .

We go over décor, guests, food, and venue. Everything that would take a normal couple months to set up. Not surprising his billionaire pockets are a shortcut through the usual hang-ups .

It's a good thing, too. He hasn't heard anything else from Jonas since we left, but I know he's out there, looking for the perfect opportunity to call us on our wedding bluff and snatch Katrin Turnbladt's beautiful little tea house away .

She called me into it the morning before we left for one more chat. Probably the only thing that made me feel human after our late night together in the hot springs, before we had to head for the airport .

I sat marveling at the handcrafted glass, sipping the finest cup of herbal tea folded in a splash of honey. Katrin rattled in her soft sing-song voice, charitable as ever. I smiled at her family stories and the anecdotes about little Cade. It wasn't even forced .

When we touched down on the runway and I woke up, so much more peaceful than the first trip there, I waited for the shock .

There has to be a moment when he looks me in the eye, when the going gets rough, and everything boils over...right? When I ask myself just one last time what the holy hell am I doing, marrying a billionaire who hand rolls sushi for my spoiled little brother, and actually makes it taste good when we sit down for dinner ?

Iceland should've been the end of everything that's too good to be true. It should've kept our overdrive lusts, too, but they haven't let up either since the day we came home .

Every time we share the bed, I'm having the best sex of my life. The only sex, of course, but if it gets any better than this, I don't want to know .

Not if it doesn't involve Cade Relentless Turnbladt .

Just thinking he's the only man I ever want to bed should tell me how screwed I am .

Trying not to should be the screaming warning my heart has gone crazy .

Pretending it's okay, and wondering if heaven lasts forever, most definitely should be a sign the end of Skye Coyle is nigh .

Yeah. It's really a shame his smirking, gorgeous, kiss teasing face comes with so many shoulds attached. I'm having a harder time seeing them every hour we're together .

Every new kiss turns shoulds into could, and maybes into will .

It's a scathing sort of poetry that's bound to put me on my knees .

Kneeling for this man involves tears, that much is certain. There are too many hidden spikes perched under my life, ready to catch me in agony. I just wish I knew whether there's joy or sorrow after the inevitable pain .

* * *

M y dissertation is coming along. Hell, at the rate I'm stress-writing, I think I'll have a draft for my professor with a full bibliography before wedding week. I've never been more enthralled by The Plague of Justinian and Late Roman Labor .

And it's nothing compared to what's waiting that evening .

Fields picks me up from campus and drives us downtown. He waits patiently while I walk into the expensive bridal shop. I put on a brave face, pretending I'm totally ready for this, but I'm three seconds from breaking down by the time the pleasant woman is taking my measurements .

I'm able to wipe a few secret tears away when she leaves, telling me to wait near the changing room while she retrieves my best options. I sit on the bench, trying to hide the sour regret that keeps foaming at the back of my mind .

Five minutes later, I've stuffed myself into a model ivory outfit complete with flowery flourishes around the neckline, and it happens. My reflection in the long mirror gets the evil eye when the tears come, hoping they won't ruin my mascara .

“Selfish bitch. Why do I still wish you were here?” I'm not talking to myself .

There's a ghost in my head. I haven't been able to shake it all morning .

Mom .

Obviously, she wouldn't approve of anything about this screwed up wedding. Like the fact it isn't real, technically, even if it's starting to feel like it is so much it's maddening .

But every girl should have her mother around to help try on dresses. I wish mine hadn't thrown herself off a Seattle bridge, drowning herself in the Puget Sound .

If I'd made more friends in my history program, it wouldn't be so bad. The peer group never meshed with me since the suicide, though. The rest is my fault .

Guilt is a heavy burden. I shut down anyone getting too close to a girl who's willing to steal just to keep her little brother healthy, and who took too much money from a depraved, soulless asshole who just happens to be family .

Is my parents' curse in the DNA we share? Sometimes, I wonder .

Desperation is no excuse for what Harry made me do. However much the guilt tears me up in the present, I would've sold him those artifacts if I'd had a chance, without a second thought. I'd have become a thief for a cause, and right or wrong, I wouldn't have looked back .

Fear is no excuse either. That's what ruled mom, and ultimately ruined her. I feel plenty of it, too. It's there behind every soft smile and flirtatious night in Cade's arms, trying to let go, and fool myself into thinking I'm not just being used for this wedding, this body, this madness he's adopted to save Katrin a heart attack .

“Who the fuck are you – really?” I whisper again, trying to blot the tears on my hand so they don't stain the fine fabric .

I don't know why I bother. Easy answers never come. Just more savage questions patented for stinging the heart .

Do these torn up eyes on top of a fancy dress staring back at me belong to a criminal ?

How about a coward? Mom was so afraid, so defeated, she killed herself. That's why she isn't here today, living my lie, rather than the ones I'm sure she told us to get by .

“Everything all right, miss?” The owner knocks softly, and I grunt back through the door, staring at four more dresses hanging neatly on their hooks I have left to try .

They're easier than the first. I'm able to get through it and even like how sexy I look in the last without a full on descent into ugly crying .

“We have a winner,” I say, stepping out, wearing the cream colored thing with the low neckline. It's not exactly my style, but I think we have something to work with. Breathable shoulders are a girl's best friend .

It just needs more color. Leave that to me .

“A lovely choice. Simple and elegant, I'm sure you'll agree.” Concern pricks at the woman's eyes. She notices the mess around my eyes. I'm already in too deep to look like a normal Seattle princess seeking her dream wedding, so why not drop the final bomb? “This particular item also has a number of add-ons we can do. Our seamstress, Shelly, is known around the world for her –“

“Yeah, sure, about that. Can we do some pink and blue up and down the sides? Maybe like...a unicorn stripey pattern up the back ?”

“Unicorn?” Her eyes are marbles .

“Tell you what, I'll get this off, change back into my clothes, and send a sketch over to help explain it better. You've got a business card ?”

She quietly reaches into her pocket and holds out the slim, glossy scrap with her name and info. There's a tremor in her fingers .

I palm it and smile sweetly. “Thanks. There's not a problem, is there? When you said add-ons, I figured –“

“Whatever it takes to make your big day wonderful! Mr. and Mrs. Turnbladt deserve the finest. No questions here!” Flustered, she walks away, trying to pacify me like the rich, high strung wife I'm sure she thinks I'm about to be .

Joke's on her .

Maybe everyone .

I won't let mom's absence, past mistakes, or a million questions ruin this. I'll enjoy my damn wedding day because it's the only one I might ever get. It's worth remembering, regardless of how long this charade lasts .

For Cade, I'll walk down the aisle, but I'll do it my way. That's one thing I've never had .

* * *

“W here's my sugar, Skittle? Come closer. Might be the last time before I'm back, and we have to suit up as bride and groom.” He's standing just outside the door, dressed in a sinfully sexy flannel shirt and jeans, an extra inch of five o'clock scruff on his face. I'm a little disappointed I won't be heading to Alaska with him for his friend's birthday .

I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him deeply. We kiss so long – no, so longing – Fields looks away with a smile, waiting next to the car with the suitcase he's loading .

“Shit, don't do that,” he growls, hand sliding down my back. “It's hard enough to leave .”

“Good. Because it would be a shame to forget me while you're off communing with grizzly bears, or whatever .”

“Careful, love. Just because I'll wife you so fucking hard in the next week doesn't mean you're exempt from a spanking .”

“You went too easy last night,” I whisper, wondering if I should be careful what I wish for. My ass is still singed and I'm already wet, even though he was in me less than twelve hours ago. “When you get back, and we do the honeymoon...harder .”

Poor Fields. I really feel for him as Cade lifts me off the ground, throws me against the wall, and sucks my bottom lip into his mouth until I feel his teeth .

The butler is clearly underpaid for everything he's seen in this house since we returned .

And I think – I hope – it's going to get a whole lot wilder in the months to come .

* * *

C ade finally breaks away and leaves with one last smoldering look through the window. I feel like a dumb kid who's just been blown a kiss by her high school sweetheart .

Then I turn, step back inside, and jump halfway out of my skin. “Vincent, you scared me! How long were you lurking there ?”

He's in the hall, leaning on a fancy stone end table I really wish he wouldn't touch. “Long enough to see you suck face with Mr. Moneybags. Spankings, sis? Gross. I don't even want to imagine you and all that Fifty Shades crap .”

“I'll give you Fifty Shades where the sun doesn't shine if you stand there talking crap about your future brother-in-law.” My heart shouldn't be drumming this fast over typical Vinnie antics. Maybe I'm secretly disappointed. “I thought you two were warming up. Stupid me .”

“Aw, come on, he's an okay guy.” Vinnie pauses, and I keep my back turned, waiting for him to come closer. “Sis, I didn't mean it. Really. This is still a little weird to me, I guess I'm just – sis ?”

I spin around and dig my hand into his stomach. The tickle-monster isn't done until he's on the floor, rolling, begging for sweet mercy .

“Okay, okay, okay!” He still isn't winded. That's unfortunate .

It's at least another ten seconds before he's able to fight me off and I give up. “How's it feel? Think I've had my payback, or should I go for more ?”

He's shaking his head furiously, sitting up with a scowl on his face, flicking his glasses back over his nose. “Christ. And you're supposed to be the mature one ...”

“And you're not supposed to scare me out of my wits and dump on Cade when I'm thinking about getting you out of the house, kiddo.” I extend a hand from my hips, helping him up .

“You're such a hardass, Skye. Why's it gotta be like that when we – wait, what? Get out where ?”

“Show me your math quiz first. If you've got yourself a B or better, you can hang out with me around campus while I go in to get some work done .”

“B-plus!” he says with a huge grin. “Can we go by that awesome music shop on the corner again, right outside your building? They've got incense .”

“We'll see.” I'm left smiling in a thunder of footsteps, watching him fly up the stairs to get his laptop from his room .

Cade won't be home for close to a week. If I have to be alone with my brother for the first time since our world flipped over, maybe there's a chance I can make him less of a dick .

* * *

I 'm humming, hunched over a thick corpus of Latin translations, records from the Eastern Roman empire. It's the icing on this beast of a book I've been working on forever .

What better way to end the year than a married woman with a doctorate? It's not all roses from here, of course. There's still oral exams, a few last credits, and a final seal of approval from the faculty before I've got my degree in hand. Then there's the one way ticket to uncertain employment in this expensive city. I'm safe from that as long as I'm with Cade, but I'm not comfortable using him as an endless security blanket .

I'm also not letting these worries detract from the accomplishment. I've done something marvelous here, and it's been an eternity since I knew that feeling .

Keep your head down, I tell myself. Just a little while longer .

And the end is coming so close I can feel it in the TA office, marking a few last quotes to cite with sticky notes. I'm so deep in my groove I barely hear my phone buzz. But as soon as I lift it up, the demon number on the screen ices my blood .

“Harry.” The bastard's name is a curse and a question on my lips .

I'll never understand why he won't just leave us alone, especially when I've sacrificed so much to hold up my end of his hellish bargain .

I can't keep living in fear. I do a quick look around and then get up from the desk, ducking into the small study room around the corner I know is never occupied .

I'm just in time for his second call. He plows straight through voice mail, hangs up, and dials me again like he always does .

“What?” I wish this phone had a cord so I could yank it out of the wall .

“Still pissed at your uncle? Figured as much, screamer, so I'll keep this brief. Vinnie had a nice chat with me a few weeks back.” Asshole pauses, letting it sink in .

My fingers form a fist. I can't decide who deserves more rage. My clueless brother, for not doing the very serious, very simple fucking thing I asked him to – come to me ASAP if Harry calls. Or the monster himself on the line, taunting me with his silence .

“What do you want? Just spit it out, Harry.” My voice trembles .

I hate it .

I'm sputtering. Cracking. Breaking down exactly like I don't want to .

“How fucking gracious, Skye, showing me some respect. Finally. I've missed it more than you'll ever know. Let's see...what is it I called you for? Oh, yeah. Turns out some investments I made with the cool million you dropped on my ledger didn't pay off like I hoped. Now, I'm looking for a loan, and I think you can help me out. Hilarious how the world works sometimes, ain't it? I loan you cash, and then I come asking, hat-in-hand? Screamer, you still there ?”

I don't know where I am, honestly. My head feels like it's going to explode .

“I can't loan you money. I paid back everything...everything I had .”

“That's a real shame, Skye. Real big shame that you have to lie to me, and you're so fucking bad at it, too .”

There's nothing to say. It doesn't faze him for more than a few seconds because he rolls right over me .

“I'm not lying. I don't have money, and if I did, I damn sure wouldn't give it to you .”

“Aw, hell, that's where you're wrong, screamer. See how you mix two truths and a lie? You just love to keep me guessing, don't you? Chasing my own fucking tail like a stupid back alley mutt ?”

What the hell does he really want? It can't be a loan. He's loaded from a life of crime. I'm trying to breathe, waiting for this to pass, or at least find the courage to hang up, and never answer another unknown call after I block his main number .

“Truth is, I don't want your fuckin' money. I want a nice fat cut from new guy joining our family; Mr. Moneybags, as Vinnie calls him. Your new hubby's loaded, isn't he? I know you thought you'd play dumb and I'd just eat it, leaving me holding onto my clueless dick, yeah ?”

The world drops out. Now, I get what this is about, and I couldn't be more numb .

But I know what I need to do .

First, I'm going to hunt down my stupid little brother and strangle him with my bare hands. Then I'll find some way to throw mud in this asshole's eyes, right after I figure out how much he knows .

“You're not getting anything, so stop trying,” I snap. Maybe this isn't completely hopeless. “Shut up and listen for a second, Harry. Whatever game you think we're playing, I'm out. I told you once, and I'll say it again, until I'm beyond blue in the face: leave. Don't contact me. Don't call Vinnie. Stay away from Cade. Don't threaten us. This is your last and final warning. I will go to the police, and I'll tell them everything I know .”

For the first time in my life, I'm sad it isn't much. My uncle is always on the go, up and down the west coast, leaving his network of amoral underlings like Adele to do his dirty work in the pimping department. Whatever else he has a hand in, I know even less. Dad was into dealing drugs, which means his brother is too, but I have no specifics .

All I know is I'm teasing fire, and there's a horrific chance someone is bound to get burned. I'm blind to how deep, how dangerous my uncle's network really goes .

“Brave words. I'm a little choked up, screamer.” Even the exaggerated sniffing sounds he makes pours fire in my blood. “Thing is, you're fucked. Come on, we both know it. I just wanted to have a little fun before I told you how fucking fucked you really are, whore. Vinnie and I talked about more than how beautifully loaded your new fiancé is...see, the kid has a hell of a conscience. He cares about you, about family, about shitting up your life without even knowing it. Remember those artifacts? The thousand year old multimillion dollar jewelry we thought was gone? Turns out – and you won't believe this – it was right under our fucking noses all along. It didn't get lost in the mail or swiped by customs or whatever the fuck excuses you told me .”

Oh, God. I don't even want to know .

“Don't. Please!” I'm covering my mouth, courage leaking out of me in a whimper .

He's laughing. Deep down, I'm screaming .

“You know where they went? Those rings, those Caesar busts, those expensive ass rocks from Persia? Right to Manny's Pawn shop in Bremerton, an easy damn ferry ride away. I sent my men over there. Lucky the owner didn't have a clue what he'd bought, and he pissed it away for a couple thousand tops. Your dumbass brother, God love him, pawned the shit for a few video games. Did it right under our noses. I'd be pissed, if he didn't just hand me the perfect excuse to make your life absolutely fucking miserable if you don't do exactly what I say .”

Can't think. Can't breathe. Can't bear to learn this demon's demands .

Harry notices. “Go ahead, screamer. Ask. I want you to .”

“What...what is it you want ?”

“Looking for a nice juicy piece of Mr. Moneybags. If the man can cough up a million plus for a bitch like you, there's plenty more where that came from. A whole lot fucking more. I done my homework on Mr. Turnbladt, sweets. That sick sonofabitch is loaded to the gills. I want to shave a few off him. Here's what's gonna happen ...”

“No. No. No!” Each time I say it, my throat goes raw, anguish oozing out. “You can't do this. I won't let you .”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, screamer. You will,” he growls. “Thing is, I'm doing you and the rich chucklefuck you're marrying a big favor. Don't think he'd fancy my boys hanging around everywhere he goes. Slipping through his big bay windows, denting his car, giving him one fuck a bodyguard bill that won't even do a lick of good when we decide we're done playing cat and mouse. It's easier for everybody if he just shuts his mouth like a nice little boy and pays me up front. Shit, I'll do you another favor, and treat this like a real transaction. Maybe that'll help with that stick-up-the-ass ego you've always had. I'll sell you this dusty Roman shit for five million. I'll hand it off wrapped up with a pink little bow, and you can throw it off the nearest ferry or whatever the fuck, so you can pretend you were never a common fucking thief, nobody else ever gets to have this kinda fun with you again. Fair ?”

You know it isn't, monster. I want to say it, scream it in his face, but it won't help .

I know what he wants .

Has bartering with a hungry lion ever saved anyone backed into its cage? There's just as much chance reasoning, pleading, asking this asshole for a mercy that's never been in his makeup .

“Yeah, shit, I didn't think so,” he says after I don't answer. “Tell you what, I'll send an invoice through Adele. Price non-negotiable .”

Non-negotiable. It's that phrase, more than any other, that cuts through the last shred of sanity in my brain. I sink to my knees, phone pressed against my ear like a scalding iron, wishing I didn't have to listen to another vicious second of this .

“It's a hard fucking bargain, so I'll leave you to your tears. You're a smart girl, Skye. Always were. I know you'll come around. You're the brainy sorta coward, and they're the kind who survive. Not like your mother. She thought she was smart, but she got real damn dumb in the end. So, little missy, you do whatever you need to convince your new squeeze it's well worth his money to pay me every red cent. Lie, threaten, drug him, and pull the money out yourself. I don't give a fuck. I just want to get paid .”

My phone chirps. The screen is flashing. It's finally over .

No, it's barely begun .

Before I dig into this mess, there's one thing that's at the top of the list. Harry knows far too much, but I still don't know what, and that's where I need to start .

I'm finding Vinnie. He has to know what's at stake, how much he's hurt us. And after I finish pumping him for information, I don't know if I'll ever be able to look him in the eye again .

* * *

H e's sitting on a bench at the edge of the university, blissfully ignorant of my disaster. It's the usual he's stuffing into his mouth: a mocha and a jumbo cinnamon apple muffin. I think I try a million times to reason with myself, to promise I won't be too harsh, but damn it...he's signed our death warrant .

“You're early, sis. What's happening? Are we getting dinner tonight before we –“ His smile fades when he sees me blocking his evening light, my long shadow cast over him. “Hey, what's the matter ?”

“You. You talked to Uncle Harry, Vincent, and you didn't tell me .”

His eyes drop. “He's family. He called when we were coming home, on the flight, weeks ago. I couldn't ignore him. He kept on dialing. What else could I do? He didn't –“

“Shut up for a second. Just tell me what he said. No excuses, please. What the hell did he ask you, Vinnie ?”

“Just the usual. Sort of. He wanted to know how we're doing, how school's going for me, if I'm up on my meds and if you're taking care of me.” Lies. And not even innocent lies. My brother's eyes are sad behind his glasses, grey and heavy as the new wave of Pacific rain brewing in the distance. “Okay. So, please don't kill me, sis, but maybe it was a little more serious than I said .”

He doesn't realize he's handling dynamite until my hand explodes toward his. No more games. I yank the mocha out of his hand and whip it at the sidewalk, then grab his shirt, and yank him up, until we're face to face .

“This is serious, so serious, Vinnie, you don't even know. Stop bullshitting!” Fear flickers in his eyes. “I need you to tell me everything, no matter how bad .”

I catch my own reflection in his glasses, tiny and seething. My heart sinks .

What are you doing? Pain deepens the longer I look at him. He's just a kid .

As stupid, disobedient, and reckless as he's been, he's still my little brother. I'll always love him .

I can't let Harry turn me into this. I let go, trying not to cry, and slowly turn away, rubbing at my eyes .

Vinnie reaches out, trying to comfort me, but I push him away. “Just...no. Give me a minute .”

It's much less. My heart beats through stomach-knotting nausea. But I manage to turn without losing my lunch all over the pavement, and look him calmly in the eye .

“You're an idiot, and so am I. Come here.” We hug. I squeeze him, so hard I think it hurts us both, but mostly me .

I'd almost forgotten who's really to blame in this screwed up situation. It isn't Vinnie, it's the asshole putting him up to this, pulling the innocent mistakes out of him, threatening our way of life, old and new .

“Vinnie, whatever he did, I forgive you. This anger, it isn't me. I'm trying like hell to let go. But I just...I need to know. You can tell me what happened, all right? I'm worried for us .”

The tears in his eyes gut what's left of me. Jesus, no, I promise I won't cry a second time .

Vinnie looks through his fogged up glasses, nodding, and slowly spills the black guilt he's been holding in. “You remember the stuff you sent back from Turkey? Well...the box came. It was never lost. Signed for it with FedEx myself. I opened it and saw...stuff worth a lot of money. Money that should've been for both of us, I know. I stole it, sis, and I'm sorry. Pawned it for an X-box and a couple games. James and Mike were there, too. They told me I was getting ripped off. I should've listened to them. But I went and did it anyway and...and I'm so fucking sorry, again .”

He grabs me and doesn't let go. I haven't seen him like this since mom's funeral. He's a child again, lost and working through the crap hand he's been dealt in life, the same hand I've worked my tail off to reshuffle .

“Vinnie, stop. Harry told me everything. You really screwed up bad, but it's not the end of the world .”

If only he knew how close we came. But honestly, he never will, and that's how I want it .

I'm not telling him about the work I did with Adele, the desperate penny pinching, the full-on thieving I planned with those artifacts and Harry, though he's probably worked that part out .

I can't keep letting our uncle's evil consume us .

Not Vinnie .

Not Cade .

Not me .

My arms grip him tighter, holding on. I rock him until his sadness and shame melts away, and he's able to look at me again through raw, red eyes without trembling. “I'm sorry,” he whimpers again. I think it's the tenth time .

“Enough apologies. I'm the idiot who stole the stuff for him,” I say, trying to take away as much guilt as I can .

“And I'm the dummy who told him everything, sis. He got to me. Made it seem like he cares...and I guess he doesn't. I don't know. Sometimes, I wonder if he really does, deep down .”

“No. Vinnie, he's a monster. A conniving one. I know you don't see it quite like I do – I don't want you to – but you have to believe me. Please. Whatever happens next, just promise me you won't talk to him again .”

“I won't, sis. This time, I mean it. If he's got you this upset, this worried, he's no good. Just wish I'd gotten it through my head sooner.” We sit down on the bench, watching a few cars go by with students laughing through the open windows. Then he turns, a new look in his eyes that's worse than the brazing sadness. “Will we be okay, Skye? Should I worry ?”

We should fear for our very lives. But there's no good telling him that .

Panic won't help, and if Vinnie freaks out and does his own thing again, this only gets worse .

“We'll be fine, Vinnie, but I need one more promise.” I reach for his hand, holding onto my words until our eyes are locked. “Listen to me, please. Everything I say over the next few weeks. No crazy questions, no doubts, no disrespect. Whatever I'm telling you to do, it's for your good. It's for mine, and for Cade's. You hear ?”

He hesitates. “Yeah. I promise, sis. Loud and clear .”

“This will all be over soon. One way or another, I'll deal with it, Vinnie. That's my promise .”

It's another hour before we make our way home. I stay up late, long after Vinnie retires to his room, checking the locks on the doors and windows when the sparse night staff aren't watching .

It's not like this place is defenseless. There's always someone around, and a world class security system with cameras and built-in tamper alarms. But I don't think Cade's place has ever faced a threat like this .

Harry probably won't dispatch his goons until I've seen the hellish invoice, but it doesn't matter. I'm not taking chances .

* * *

C ade's trip to Alaska rips a hole through my life. It's not just Harry's ultimatum creating the chasm in his absence .

There's a weird number sending texts. I don't understand a word of them .

It's like someone ran text through an online translator, and spat out choppy English .

I read the words that keep coming over and over again, always some variation of the same thing .

Obsess...spychip...poker...Jonas .

The last word is perfectly clear, though I wish it weren't. Like we don't have enough problems .

I reply every time, always a little angrier, asking who the hell it is and what they want .

There's no response. I also can't do anything while Cade is out in the wilds, where his cell isn't working. He doesn't respond to the sugary texts and emails I send trying to get his attention .

Paranoia is a hell of a drug. It's deep in my veins and the hits keep coming, making me afraid to leave the house for the next week .

One night, Vinnie stays out late with his friends, not answering his phone. I ball him out when he drags himself home at two a.m. He's more understanding than I expect, apologetic, even .

I'm the train wreck .

A message shows up roughly a day before Cade is due home. I see the blank envelope with Adele's handwriting in the mail basket by his office, where the housekeepers leave my things .

I wonder if my heart will explode before I'm able to slide the opener through the seal .

Harry wasn't kidding when he said invoice. It looks like a bill from any old place, a hospital or ratty auto-shop, only the line named SERVICE isn't more specific .

The seven digits next to it put me on the brink of passing out .

Five million dollars. He's fucking serious .

My vision goes red. Lungs heaving, throat pulsing, hands clammy like a fever, I fall against the wall, trying not to pass out .

Yep, it's as big a disaster as I expected. It's also here .

“I'm sorry,” I whisper to Cade, as much as to myself. “So, so, so, so, so fucking sorry ...”

There's an imaginary hole opening under me. I'm falling, just a little at a time, onto my knees .

I don't know how long I'm on the floor, knees pulled up to my chest, eyes glazed over .

You know those shock moments when a late night phone call comes in, and tells you someone dear has passed away unexpectedly? The world shifts on its axis, the poison seeps in, and life will never, ever be the same, even if the full atomic loss hasn't yet exploded .

I lived it the night I found out mom threw herself off the bridge, when I rushed to the morgue to identify her body .

That feeling is with me again tonight. It's like a heavy sickness I can't shake no matter how long I'm crumpled in the corner, probably until near dawn. It takes a security guard making his rounds through the library on morning watch to break my stupor .

“Miss? You all right? Hey!” his flashlight hits my eyes like a second sun, hand over his face .

He's reaching for his phone, probably to get a paramedic, when I'm finally able to move. “I'm okay. Sorry. I must've fallen asleep .”

I get up and turn without another word, leaving him to stare after me. The man doesn't follow .

He knows better .

There's an escape. One, and no other. And it's sure to be as hopeless, as final, and as soul killing as mom destroying herself .

This is the end. It can't be anything less if I want to make sure Cade and Vinnie have a new beginning .