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.”
Chapter 7
D erek
L eaning over Gladys’s desk on Wednesday, I slip her a circular from last night’s paper.
“What’s this?” she asks.
“Horton Satellite Internet,” I say. “I need you to call and request an emergency installation at Belcourt Manor.”
“Can I do that?” She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her bumpy nose and reads the fine print.
“As conservator of Serena Randall’s estate, I’m authorizing you to do it it.”
She picks up her phone, cradling the receiver on her
“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.”
Chapter 7
D erek
L eaning over Gladys’s desk on Wednesday, I slip her a circular from last night’s paper.
“What’s this?” she asks.
“Horton Satellite Internet,” I say. “I need you to call and request an emergency installation at Belcourt Manor.”
“Can I do that?” She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her bumpy nose and reads the fine print.
“As conservator of Serena Randall’s estate, I’m authorizing you to do it it.”
She picks up her phone, cradling the receiver on her
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