Serena

“Your father and Veronica called while you were out.” Eudora follows me up the winding staircase that leads to my suite.

“What did you tell them?” I whip around, stopping on the eighth stair.

Eudora covers her heart with a wrinkled hand. “That you were sleeping, of course.”

I exhale and climb the rest of the steps, slightly breathless when I reach the top.

“Your medications were due over an hour ago,” Eudora says when we cross the threshold to my room. “They’re on your nightstand.”

“I’ll take them after I wash up.”

Eudora eyes the meds, then me. “You seem awfully alert lately. Feeling better?”

Unbuttoning my shirt before the mirror, I pause at the third button and turn her way. “Much. Thank you for asking.”

She knows me better than anyone, and the rolling feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me she sees clear through me.

“It’s that lawyer, isn’t it? You’re sweet on him.” Her words are choppy, displeased. “It’s like you’ve been walking on air since yesterday afternoon.”

I laugh and return to my buttons. “Not. At. All. You’re imagining things.”

She moves closer, examining me until I squirm slightly. “You’re blushing.”

“He’s a nice man,” I say. “And he’s easy on the eyes. But after everything that happened with Keir, I’m rather insulted by the fact that you’d accuse me of wanting to jump back into the dating scene. And he’s my conservator. It would violate his professional standards and my personal ethics. Please. No more frivolous indictments.”

She slaps her palms along her sides and huffs. “I’m just protective, that’s all.”

“Right. You said that before.” I pull my blouse off my shoulders, standing in nothing but a bra and black leather leggings that are a size too big and mourning my curves in the mirror. Food just hasn’t tasted the same in the last couple of months. I blame the medication.

“It’s just.” She stands beside me. “You’re a very beautiful young lady. He’s a handsome man who knows you’re richer than God. And he’s charming. Serena, he’s essentially a stranger, and you got in the car with him. What if he would’ve taken you somewhere?”

“Okay. That’s enough.” I chuckle. “I’m not a child climbing into a car with a candy-toting stranger. I’m grown woman. You saw me leave with him. We both know who he is. I didn’t see the harm. You know you sound ridiculous, right?”

I peel out of my leggings and yank a pair of matching satin pajamas from my middle bureau drawer. When I’m changed, I head to the bathroom to wash up. Eudora follows, leaning in the doorway.

“Just be smart about this,” she cautions. “I don’t care how sweet he is to you. How he makes you feel. You can’t trust him. You can’t trust any of them.”

I dab a line of toothpaste on my ultrasonic brush and shoot her a scrunch-faced look, debating whether to argue or appease for now.

“Got it,” I say. I’m too tired to fight with Eudora, and I know her stick-in-the-mud tendencies all too well. I’ve grown up with them. “He’s untrustworthy, and I won’t trust him.”

* * *

When I round the corner to the dining room Tuesday morning and spot Veronica and my father seated at the head of the table, it’s all I can do to not choke on my spit.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Veronica rises, her glass-like forehead reflecting off the lit chandelier above. She’s dressed in head-to-toe daffodil yellow, my father’s favorite color, even though it looks horrid against her orange-glow skin. Someone that evil shouldn’t wear happy colors.

I shudder when she calls me any term of endearment, which only seems to happen when my father is present.

“Hi, Daddy.” I ignore Veronica and take the seat next to my father, who’s dressed in a navy velour tracksuit. It’s all he seems to wear anymore. Long gone are the days when he’d never be caught dead in anything besides his favorite Italian tailored suits. I slip my hand over my father’s, and he stares blankly ahead.

“He’s not quite himself today.” Veronica clears her throat and takes the seat on his other side. “He had another episode this morning. Kept calling me . . . Maggie.”

My chest tightens.

That was my mother’s name.

“It was like he’d completely forgotten which decade we’re in,” she laments, but I don’t think she cares about him. I think she’s more concerned with her window of opportunity fading.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

I find it interesting that she hasn’t visited in weeks, and now she’s here. A few days after I fled Belcourt for a couple of hours.

Eudora had to have mentioned something.

“I wanted to let you know.” She steps over her words carefully, her tight eyes jutting all over the room. “Your father gave me sole medical power of attorney. Our dual power of attorney is temporarily suspended, given your current state.”

“What? No. You can’t do that.”

“No, no, dear. Your father decided.” Her legs cross, and her expression is emotionless. Then again, it usually is. The woman’s face is so filled, she can hardly smile anymore.

“My father? The man who doesn’t even know who you are half the time?” My voice is raised. “He’s not in any condition to make changes like that, and you know it.”

“And you’re not in any condition to make decisions about anyone’s care, including yourself. I had to do what’s best for the family.”

I could slap her, and I’m not a violent person. A million words fly through my mind, threatening to take a detour to my lips.

But I remember Derek’s advice. We can’t let her know we’re onto her. It’ll only make things harder.

“The family?” I scoff. “You’re not a part of this family, Veronica.”

“I care about you, sweetheart.” She leans across the table, placing her hand over mine, but I yank it away. Her expression is a phony kind of warm, but her touch is cold as ice. “I know you don’t believe it, but I do. I love my Harold, and part of loving Harold is loving his daughter.”

“Don’t sit here at my table and feed me lies in front of my ailing father. Have a little more respect.” I rise, staring down at my father in his catatonic state. His face twitches, and his eyes almost sputter to life. He looks up at me, then to Veronica.

“Ladies, what is going on?” he asks, appearing for a moment to be somewhat lucid.

Veronica’s lips waver and dance as she looks at me.

“Daddy, did you know Veronica made herself your sole medical power of attorney?” I ask.

He folds his meaty knuckled hands across his bulbous belly, his bushy white brows meeting in the middle.

“Yes, Serena. We made that decision together.” His words break my heart. He only thinks they made the decision together. I know manipulation when I see it. “You’re not well, princess. As soon as you’re back to yourself again, everything will go back to the way it was.”

“So if something happens to you—God forbid—you’re okay with Veronica making all your medical decisions?” I fold my arms, glaring at my evil-incarnate stepmother.

His face relaxes, and he stares ahead, groaning and grumbling under his breath. He shifts, uncomfortable in his wheelchair. And then he looks at me, his face twisted as a question mark.

“Who’s Veronica?” he asks.

I throw my hands in the air. Just like that, he’s gone. And it’s too late, because Veronica’s already weaseling her way into the family fortune. The day my father’s connected to a machine, she’ll be the first one telling the doctors to pull the plug—assuming she gets her way with the inheritance first.

At least when she shared medical power of attorney, there were safeguards in place.

“He has his moments, Serena. Please don’t be frustrated,” Veronica says. “Believe me when I say these decisions were discussed during his coherent stretches.”

“Right.” My lips form a hard line. “Is this all you came here for? Will you be on your way now?”

Bettina bursts through double doors with a tray full of food.

“Well, I thought we could all enjoy a lovely breakfast together,” Veronica says. “It’s been weeks since we shared a meal, and it’s such a beautiful morning. I thought maybe we could take it outside? The fresh air might help. Do you go outside much, sweetheart?”

Her question is a test. Of that I’m sure.

“I get plenty of fresh air,” I say. “Would be nice to have a car though. You know, so I can actually leave the grounds once in a while.”

“Oh, my love, that’s not a good idea. Dr. Rothbart doesn’t want you driving until your medications are balanced. That’s why you have a driver on call. If you want to leave, just ring Jameson, and he’ll pick you up.”

“He’s two hours away, and he’s your driver, and you use him everyday.”

“Then we’ll hire a new driver for you.” Veronica lifts a brow at the chef and points to the patio. “You’ve lived in the city for a long time. Driving’s not really your forte. Leave that to the professionals, shall we? That’s what Randalls do best.”

She chuckles.

“I’ll take my breakfast in my room,” I say to Bettina. Turning on my heel, I waste no time moving toward the stairs.

“Serena, do not walk away from me,” Veronica calls from behind. I don’t hear her footsteps. And she won’t chase me. It’s not her style. “Dr. Rothbart will be stopping by later this week for another evaluation. It doesn’t appear that you’re getting much better.”

I hear her shout out words like, “overly emotional” and “an embarrassment to the family” and “unacceptable, irrational behavior.” And I let her say what she needs to say. Soon enough, I’ll be gone. I’ll prove her wrong. I’ll prove her to be a criminal. And this will all be a distant memory.

I fly up the stairs and head to my prison suite, slamming the door behind me like a spoiled princess, and damn, does it feel good for all of two seconds.

A shock stops my heart cold when I see Veronica’s personal assistant, Julia, rifling through my drawers.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I fly to her side, gripping her wrist and yanking it from my things.

She’s frozen. A deer in headlights. “I’m so sorry, Serena.”

“I’m going to ask you one more time.” I release her, folding my arms. “What are you doing?”

Sputtering sounds leave her mouth and she eyes the door.

“You’re not leaving my room until you tell me, Julia.” I block her view of the exit. “This is completely inappropriate. Does Veronica know you’re up here?”

Her look tells me everything I need to know—everything I suspected.

“She put you up to this,” I say.

“Please,” she says. “Let me go. I don’t want to be a part of this.”

“What were you looking for?” I ask.

Julia hangs her head. “Please don’t do this to me, Serena. I was only doing as I was told. I can’t lose my job.”

“You won’t,” I say. “Just tell me.”

“Pills,” she blurts out, red-faced. “I was supposed to see if you were hoarding pills. Veronica was worried you were hoarding them so you could hurt yourself.”

My fists clench. Enough with the lies and illusions.

It has to end.

It’s gone on long enough, and it’s going way too far.

I have to get out of here, even if it’s Rixton wherever, like Derek suggested.

“Leave,” I say through a tightened jaw. “And I’d better not ever catch you in here again.”