Page 140 of Bite Me

“Your family loved you,” she whispers. “You’re just like them.”

The sob breaks in my chest, letting the fear and relief leak from my body. Emma’s arms are around me as I fall into her.

“I knew you were loved.”

The tears won’t stop. I didn’t think I could cry. I’ve never managed to muster even a few tears. The most I’ve ever wept has been for Florence, the night I lost her and then found her again.

Emma’s patient hands move the hair away from my forehead while I cry in her lap. There’s overwhelming grief that’s overpowered by catharsis. She softly hums till I’m ready to lift my head.

She grabs the sheet and helps me wipe my face. “I got glitter on you.”

“I don’t mind.”

I lay my head in her lap and pull her hips toward me, and she kisses my forehead.

“Do you think your parents would mind a bed and breakfast in their home? It’s so beautiful.”

She’s thinking of them as if she knew them and I love that.

“I think they’d . . . be proud of me no matter what I decide to do.”

That’s a sentence that’s never left my mouth, but I finally believe it.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Dacre

I’ve gone through my life with this vague purposelessness. But now I know exactly what I want and what I have to do to get it.

“Hello, Grandfather.” I open the door to his office without a knock.

“Dacre, what a pleasure.” His voice is steel, but he stands to greet me. “Come to beg for forgiveness for your scent-match?”

There’s a fresh bowl of walnuts on the desk and new white hydrangeas. Poetic. He knew I was coming.

“Not quite.” I motion to the whiskey on the desk. “May I?”

He nods in agreement, and I pour him a glass first, then myself.

The glass rests coolly on my lips as I let the liquid slide down, and I examine the window behind him. Yellow and orange leaves drift into the air as we marinate in the silence.

This is the last moment I have with him before everything changes. Is there something I should say? Thanks for locking me up for five days? Or thanks for harassing my sister and using her as leverage to manipulate me?

No. Fuck that.

“The only one begging will be you, I’m afraid.” I pull a folder from my jacket and place it on the desk.

“What am I looking at?” he says, just before his eyes widen at the first page.

I hide my satisfied smile with another sip.

“While you were busy running around taking advantage of those less fortunate than you, I was taking notes. I know all the ways you fudged the numbers in your business. Bad deals. Things I think our business partners won’t be happy to learn about.” Courtesy of my brother Daniel. I tap on the desk as a signal, and my brother enters the office behind me.

Daniel strolls in and straightens his jacket. “Hello again, Grandfather. Terrible day for a family reunion.”

My grandfather ignores him, eyes scanning each page thoroughly.

“That’s nothing. Simple booking errors,” he says.