Three played a 'Wicked Game.' Now, it's time for round two.
One will fight. One will meet The Maker. And one will try to keep them all safe.
The world may be black and white but to win this game, they'll have to play in the gray.
Outside of Evening city limits and at the end of Carnation Row was the biggest chunk of land owned by one family; The Chambers and not the ones that resided in Norway. The Oleander Estate was four hundred and seventy acres of lush green land, a fruit orchard and its own private sandy beach.
It was Harper's favorite place in the world. The compound Andreassen Chambers built from the ground up with the help of the best architects money could buy after learning his wife, Kieran was with child.
The French Chateau country home had eight bedrooms, nine bathrooms, a library, sauna, pool, and gym but Harper felt most at home in the little white abode at the edge of the property.
The Storage House is what it was dubbed but to Harper, it was the place where memories lived. Racks of gowns worn at galas, balls, and banquets lined the wall of the house with no rooms. On the other wall was a glass display of priceless jewelry for which her mother held the key.
"We should just burn it," Preston said lounging back on a makeshift chair he constructed out of boxes. Harper stopped protesting to anyone touching those boxes—the boxes that hid her father's belongings. "I don't need to know what's in that letter."
Harper lifted her eyes off the envelope in her hand with her name scribbled across it. She hadn't let it out of her sight since she left the hotel room in New Foster. "We owe it to Dalton."
"We don't owe Dalton shit." Preston proclaimed covering himself up with a black fur coat and sealing his eyes shut.
"Then what about the lies." She tapped her hand with the letter, "Our friends are sneaking behind our backs...we need to know the truth."
"The truth." Preston tsked the drive back in made him drowsy and it being midnight made him even sleepier. "Ignorance is bliss. And I rather steer clear of the shit Isa, Dalton, Faith, and Alex have their ass in."
"How can you say something like that?" She lifted her eyes from the five-carat emerald-cut engagement ring and turned to her dozing friend. "Dalton is counting on us. He needs us." She got caught up in her emotions and ripped the letter open.
The tearing of paper broke Preston out of his stupor, "What did you do?" He gawked at her with wide eyes.
Harper was mute as she coursed her eyes over the words typed on the white slip of paper.
"What's it say?" He asked in a whisper as if the five souls in the house and the butler in his cottage a mile away were awake.
Harper reread the two words aloud so Preston could hear, "John Fulton."
"The shrink?" He chided, and the fur slid off his shoulder as he sat up. "What's he got to do with them?"
"I don't know." Harper shrugged tucking the paper back into the envelope. "But I'm going to find out."
"By yourself," Preston informed reclaiming his sleeping position.
"Why?"
Preston opened one of his eyes, "Dominic's coming home tomorrow." He closed his eyes placing his head back on the box. "I have to be the proper son and greet him."
"I'll just go myself," Harper said turning back to the jewelry case. "See what the school shrink knows."
Should Harper go talk to Dr. John Fulton by herself?
К сожалению, это изображение не соответствует нашим правилам. Чтобы продолжить публикацию, пожалуйста, удалите изображение или загрузите другое.
