Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
But the longer I sit at my desk, distracted and incapable of doing anything else other than worrying about my sister, the more tempted I am to pick up the phone.
"Cora?"
I snap my head up, trying my best to give my assistant, Alice, a smile. It shouldn't be such a struggle these days to find any hint of happiness, and I hate the way she looks at me. She knows nothing. The Preston family has tried to remain as private as possible, and Sadie not coming home for the last several weeks and my concern over it are just more things I'll have to suffer in silence.
"Hi," I tell her.
"I have that list of resources you asked for," she says, stepping further into my office.
"Thank you, Alice," I say as I reach for the folder of information. "I can't wait to get started on this."
She dips her head before leaving my office, and I hate lying to her. Hell, I hate lying in general, but she works hard. I don't have the heart to tell her I have no idea what she just handed me, and I seriously doubt I'll be in the proper head space to give it the attention it deserves.
There are days I wish I was more like William. I wish I could just block everything out and move forward, make decisions without emotion, but I've never been able to do that. My mother used to praise me for my kind heart while warning me not to be too kindhearted because people would take advantage.
Instead of opening the folder and attempting to sort through the information, I pick up the phone and call Mr. Anderson. I'm going to drive myself crazy not knowing what is going on with Sadie's case.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Preston," he says when he answers, and it throws me off-kilter for a second.
"You have my office number programmed into your phone?"
"We're very thorough," he says, his tone free of any emotion. "What can I help you with today?"
"I'm calling for an update," I say, nervously straightening things on my desk, just to have something to do with my free hand.
"We're working on the case, gathering intel."
"And Mr. Yarrow is in DC?"
"He is."
"You're not very forthcoming with information."
"We don't have much past what you already know, Ms. Preston."
He doesn't sound annoyed or even irritated to have to tell me this. I commend him for that because I'm getting on my own damn nerves.
"Thank you," I tell him.
"Ms. Preston?"
"Yes."
"I'll call if we find anything."
"Thank you," I manage again before dropping the receiver back into the cradle.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes, and I have to blink up at the ceiling to keep them from making mascara tracks down my cheeks.
I can't count the number of times that my sister has broken my heart or left me disappointed in her. She has a history of leaving a wake of chaos wherever she goes. It's why these weeks of silence are so loud. It's not Sadie's style. Instead of quiet, I'd expect her to give an interview on some damn morning talk show, laying out all the family secrets, no matter how it makes her look. For Sadie, there's no such thing as bad attention. If the spotlight is on her, then she's more than happy to just bask in the warmth of it. She never cared about other's opinions of her. She lived for herself and, in recent years, her addictions.
I could see the freedom in doing what she wants when she wants to do it with no care as to how it affects others, but she's also trapped in this vicious cycle of dependency.
I pick up the phone once again, knowing what I'll hear, but it's the only connection I have to her.
My heart seizes when the phone clicks, indicating she answered rather than it ringing five times to go to voicemail.
"Sadie?" I ask, a sob of relief clogging my throat.
"This ain't Sadie," a male voice growls.
"Who is this?" I snap. "Where's Sadie?"
"I don't know a fucking Sadie."
"This is her phone."
"This is my phone. I got this number the day before yesterday and sure as fuck wish you'd find that Sadie chick, so people would stop blowing up my phone."
He hangs up before I can say another word, and when I try and call the number back, it doesn't connect, not even to voicemail, telling me the number has been blocked.
Rage fills me as I dial my brother's number.
"Put William on the phone," I tell his assistant the second she answers the phone.
"Right away, Ms. Preston," she says, but I can hear the snarky tone in the way she says my last name.
"Cora, I'm busy," my brother says when he picks up.
"Why did you have Sadie's phone disconnected?"
There's a beat of silence, and it makes me wonder if he's regretting what he did. I doubt it. William never falters on the choices he makes, no matter if they affect others in a negative way.