Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
I sniffed. “Look, my head is killing me. I’m tired, I’m freaked out, I’m looking at a massive car repair bill. Do you think we could take a break from discussing what a friendless, broke, slovenly, living-with-my-mother loser I am?”
Davis’s cheeks glowed neon red.
I really should’ve been a lawyer. Anyone with my ability to make a cop this flustered was destined to be.
“Of course, Ms. Kim, please rest. I apologize for...” He tossed his head. “I’m just sorry.”
Accepting that, I rested my head back on the glass and closed my eyes.
Eeeeee!
I shot up, blinking under the stabbing sunlight. I fell asleep? How? When?
“We’re here,” Davis said, raising his voice over that horrible screeching. “If it’s all right, I’d like to escort you inside. Get you settled.”
“In... inside?” My sluggish brain sputtered and stopped, and started up again—focusing on my surroundings long enough for me to put together the picture. “Oh, no...”
The manor—
My home for eighteen years. Once photographed for the cover of Lantana Lifestyle Magazine. The pride of my mother’s eye.
—looked terrible.
Gone was the manicured lawn. Grass and weeds hip-high grew with abandon, defiantly raising a million middle fingers to the riding mower that clipped their growth. The night I left the manor behind forever, I shot down the circular gravel path—blowing past our marble fountain, the centerpiece of our landscape. Beautiful, dancing women in flowing hanboks posed, smiled, and beckoned to the coming guests—streams of crystal-clear water dancing from their palms.
Not anymore.
The marble cracked in a dozen places—splitting their smiles, stealing their noses, dismembering their fingers and limbs.
No water was running, which was just as well. The fountain basin held nothing but dirt, leaves, and trash. Running water would only gift us a feature as muddy as the path surrounding it. Clearly, the gravel had blown away long ago, and nobody bothered to have it redone.
And still, all of that was a better sight than the manor itself.
The flower garden that used to circle the mansion, once my mother’s pride and joy, was now nothing but weeds and dead bushes. The plaster was peeling. The roof was missing shingles. And a few of the windows were boarded up like an abandoned asylum, instead of a lived-in home.
Twisting around, I realized the screeching was a gift from the gate. Now unmanned, it seemed it was replaced by an automatic gate sometime after I left. And that replacement was the only upgrade that gate has gotten since, because I was now looking at a rusted, wheezing thing that wanted to be put out of its misery.
“Ms. Kim?” He stopped the car and killed the engine. “Would you mind?”
It took me a second to remember his question. “Oh, uh— Yes. That would be fine.”
Climbing out, he came around to my side, opened the door, and guided me out. I leaned on him, letting him prop me up more than I needed him to. Coming across weak and fluttery would dissuade him from asking any more questions. How could I deal with his questions when I couldn’t handle my own?
How did the manor get this bad? Where were the staff? The groundspeople? The gardeners? The housekeepers? Anyone?
Davis led me up the brick staircase.
Loose stones wobbled beneath our feet, welcoming us officially into the house of disrepair.
If it looks this bad on the outside, how bad is it on the inside? Another, harsher, thought occurred to me. It must be falling apart inside too. That’s why Sue didn’t care that Omma left me all her furniture and the manor’s contents.
The real wealth is in the building and in the land. Why would she be jealous when she knew when it came to the inheritance game, she still won?
The thought crossed my mind, then I shoved it out. What did it matter now? Any games she may or may not have been trying to win? Any manipulations she thought she was running on me? None of that mattered.
Sue was gone.
She was more than gone. Because of me, she was a battered corpse on the ocean floor. I robbed her of a proper burial. I was erasing her from her own life. The least I could do was think more charitably of her now, and let the past finally be the past.
“Ms. Kim?” Davis looked at me like he’d been trying to get my attention for a while. “Your key?”
“Oh, right.” I fumbled in my bag, fishing out Sue’s housekey.
Passing it over, he pushed inside and helped me in.
Our eyes locked immediately.
Time slowed, then ground to a screeching halt—trapping me in this single moment. With a single thought.
I know you...
The man paused on the staircase, clearly in the middle of descending them when we burst inside.
Curly hair that was a cheek-tickling, dusky brown. Glinting, melty hazel eyes, and that tight, muscled body that somehow got tighter and musclier. His handsome, angular face crumpled in a frown—stealing the breath from my lungs before he, or I, even got a chance to speak.