Chapter 2
The room went dead quiet, like a church before a gunshot.
Draven spun around and crossed to me in three strides.
"Lira, what are you doing?" he hissed. "I'm granting her one wish."
I barely heard him. Over his shoulder, I saw the room.
The pillow under Maren's feet was mine.
I'd had it custom-made overseas, paid thousands of dollars for it, after insomnia started wrecking my sleep and my hair came out in clumps.
Draven had told me customs lost the package.
The three limited-edition dolls on the TV stand. I'd assumed they were gifts for me. Later Draven said they'd been misdelivered and told me to let it go.
I'd let it go. God, I'd let everything go.
Maren tugged at his sleeve, pale and trembling.
"Draven, who is she?"
Draven shut his eyes. "My wife. Lira."
"Oh." Her eyes filled as she walked over.
"You're Mrs. Rook. I'm so sorry. If I weren't so sick, I wouldn't be a burden on Draven."
She touched my arm.
"He told me you lost a baby last year. I'm so sorry. Last March, they took me to the chapel on the hill and we had a medallion blessed. Please, take it. For your protection."
She lifted the vintage engraved medallion from her neck and held it out.
Last March.
My blood ran cold.
It was the night of the storm. I was six months along when I slipped in the bathroom.
I called Draven. I called Torin. I called his mother. Nobody picked up. I passed out on the tile, and when I woke up, my baby was gone.
And the holidays. Three years of Thanksgivings and Christmases when "business" kept them all away. I'd waited at a table, thinking they were busy.
They weren't busy. They'd been with her.
Looking at that medallion, I wanted to be sick. My hand moved before I decided anything.
The medallion hit the floor and shattered.
Maren screamed and burrowed into Draven's chest.
"Are you insane?" Elowen shrieked.
Torin shoved me hard in the shoulder. "Get out! You're not welcome here!"
I stumbled back into the doorframe. The pain barely registered.
"Torin. I'm your sister. You're throwing me out for a stranger?"
"She's my sister too!" Torin's face was red, his chin up.
"When I wanted a seat with the Calloway crew, you called it a pipe dream. Only Maren believed in me. She pulled strings and got me in."
"And Draven's miserable with you. Maren's the only one soft enough to deserve him."
It hit me like a slug to the ribs.
Torin had no pedigree and no record, nothing to make Calloway look twice.
I was the one who worked that sit-down, smiling at men I despised and drinking whiskey until my stomach bled, just to get him a meeting. I'd told only Draven, so Torin wouldn't feel he owed me.
Yet Draven had handed my sacrifice to Maren.
"Enough," Bryndis snapped, checking her watch.
"Draven, she's had a scare. Let's go. The photographer's waiting."
Draven nodded and scooped Maren into his arms. They filed past me like I was a piece of furniture. Nobody looked back.
I stood there like a clown after the circus had left town.
At the elevator, Maren's voice drifted back, small and wounded.
"Maybe we should cancel. I don't need the photos. I'll just take extra pills."
"She does this all the time," Draven said, not even lowering his voice.
"She'll be fine in a few days."
And my phone buzzed.
[Draven: Sorry we hid it. Maren has a heart condition. She can't take stress. Since it's your birthday, I'll forgive you. Tomorrow, I'll take you for seafood.]
I laughed. Then I was crying.
I'm deadly allergic to shellfish. One bite and I go into shock. He'd known that for five years.
That was how it always went. Every time Draven wounded me, he tossed me a cheap treat and expected me to swallow it quietly.
I wiped my face and stood straight.
Not this time, Draven. I don't want your poisoned sugar anymore.
I dialed the one number I'd been avoiding.
"Director Voss, it's Lira. About the cross-border underground humanitarian medical outreach program. I want in."
A pause.
"Are you sure? It's brutal work. Once you sign, you're gone three years at minimum. No coming home early."
I stared at the door they'd closed on me.
"I'm sure."
