Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
I nod. “It was good seeing you. As for your twin brother, it was a taxing hassle.”
“The pleasure was all mine.” Lan clasps my shoulder with a wide grin, then leans closer to whisper, “I’m coming back soon to raze your efforts to the ground, dear cousin. Please prepare the red carpet.”
“I’ll prepare your funeral.”
With that, I walk out of the bar and head to where Henderson is waiting with the car.
I’m only a few steps out when I hear a female voice call, “Eli.”
I stop near the mahogany double doors and turn around to find Cecily hurrying in my direction, her silver hair flying in the wind.
When she reaches me, I continue staring at her without saying a word. She’s the one who’s stealing my precious time, so she better have a good reason.
She rubs her nose, a habit of discomfort, before she finally blurts, “Is everything okay with Ava?”
“I thought you FaceTime her all day?”
“Not all day.”
“Every couple of hours for a few hours?”
“Why do you have to be so mean?”
“I’m not mean. I’m busy. If that’s all…”
“Wait.” She clears her throat. “Is there anything wrong concerning…you know.”
“You can name it, Cecily. Her condition has a diagnosis and it’s called psychosis. Shying away from putting a name on it or treating it like it’s taboo won’t do anyone any good, least of all her. And she is fine, considering she picked up the cello of her own accord and is enjoying the spotlight again.”
“I know. She sends me updates and footage of her performances.”
“There you have it. I hope you told her you’re proud of her courage.”
“I don’t need you to tell me that. I’ve been there for her our entire lives and that will stay the same, even if we live continents apart.” She pauses and watches me peculiarly. “You’ve changed.”
“All human beings do.”
“I’m still not sure whether it’s for the better or the worse.”
“I’ll leave you to ponder that.”
“Hold on.” She steps in my way before I can move. “I’m thinking about going back to the UK for a couple of months until I’m sure she’s okay.”
“I strongly advise against that, and by strongly advise, I mean don’t do it.”
“Why not?”
“Because you treat her with kid gloves. You baby her and cater to her every demand. You spoil her worse than her parents, and that is the exact opposite of what she needs.”
“Well, I’m sorry I care for her mental well-being.”
“Not with methods that help.”
“And yours do?” she whisper-yells as she searches our empty surroundings. “Like that falling-down-the-stairs accident?”
“It was an accident.”
“Yeah, right. No need to put on an act, Eli. Both of us know she becomes unpredictable during her episodes, which is why you should’ve gone with the more intense therapy option.”
“And kill her spirit? Murder her creativity? Stifle her entire being?”
“Only temporarily. She would get better.”
“The last time we did something temporarily, she almost vanished.”
“We just need to keep an eye on her. Your vain, false hope will make things worse. Her current medication only dulls her symptoms and doesn’t target the root of the problem.”
“You treating her like a delicate flower is what made things worse and caused her to spiral down that addiction path.”
“But—”
“Enough,” I grind out. “I’m her legal guardian and will not tolerate any interference in my decisions. Not even from you.”
I walk away, but I hear her whisper, “She’ll hurt you, you know.”
“Good thing I’m the Tin Man,” I say over my shoulder and catch a glimpse of Cecily’s downward, sad smile.
She probably recalls that time during Remi’s birthday party a couple of years ago when Ava got drunk, which wasn’t novel at that point in her life.
Once she had enough liquid courage, she stumbled toward me and jut a finger in my chest. “I hate you, Tin Man.”
Then she nearly fell and would’ve drowned in the pool if Cecily hadn’t dragged her away.
I wish I was still at that point where I mildly noticed her and only found her slightly annoying.
Right now, however, I have a horrible feeling that if she cries again, I’ll be prepared to do anything to stop the tears.
On my way to the car, Henderson appears by the driver’s seat, his brows pinched together. He has a rather distinct disregard for the US in general, and New York in particular, so he hasn’t been especially thrilled about this business trip.
“There’s no need to sulk like a snobbish Victorian, Henderson. We’re leaving in a couple of hours.”
“It’s not that,” he starts in a strange, careful tone. “Sam and I didn’t wish to bother you until we’d done our due diligence and checked the facts.”
“What facts?”
He hesitates for a beat. Henderson never hesitates. “Mrs. King is missing.”
“She’s what?” While my voice is calm, the roar of emotions rattle around me with the discrepancy of violence.
“After the recital, she sent Sam home and said she was having dinner with your and her parents, then spending the night at her parents' house. Sam saw them go to the restaurant together. The CCTV footage shows that she left the restaurant with them and got into her father’s car. Sam checked with the butler of Mr. and Mrs. Nash, but he reported that Mrs. King did not, in fact, arrive home with her parents.”