to you this morning? Do you know who was in your apartment?”
It’s my turn not to answer.
“Whatever it is you’re doing, stop.” His tone is deep and authoritative.
If I were one of his sons, I’d probably be lowering my head in compliance. But I don’t belong to him. And I’m not very good at following orders.
“Sorry, Niall. Chaos seems to follow me wherever I go. Just ask your brother.” I start past him.
“There are things I’m trying to protect you from,” he warns. “But you’re making it very difficult.”
“Then stop!” I bite back. “I don’t need your protection. I need the truth. You can tell my mother that whenever she’s ready to tell me what happened between her and Maggie and your other brother … she knows where to find me. Otherwise, don’t bother. I’m done hurting for everybody else.”
I leave Niall still as a statue in the fancy room. Maybe now, he’ll finally take me seriously.
“All set. I texted my mom about the bag to take to the hospital,” Joey informs me when I enter the kitchen.
He has my backpack dangling over a shoulder and is balancing the wooden box with his other hand. I was planning to return it to my mother, knowing I have no right to the secrets that have been locked inside all these years.
Screw it. It’s coming with me.
“I’m ready,” I respond, following him out the door.
“Dad, we’re leaving!” Lance yells, bounding down the stairs.
“Have a safe drive,” Niall calls from wherever he is, his voice carrying throughout the house. “I’ll tell your mother you said good-bye. She’ll be up in a couple weeks for the start of the semester.”
The sun is preparing to set by the time we pull through Blackwood’s monstrous, scrolling gates.
We stopped at a small farm restaurant along the way. The guys didn’t seem to mind that I was quiet. Lance made up for it with elaborate stories that made me laugh and my midsection ache. Joey kept checking his phone and texting more than I’d ever seen him do before. He’d glance at me with a sad smile before answering whoever was on the other end. I slept most of the drive—or tried to when my thoughts weren’t analyzing and second-guessing every decision I’d made today.
I’m exhausted by the time I step into the foyer but not enough to hide my surprise when I find Dr. Kendall standing just inside the door to greet us.
“It’s nice to have you back,” she says with a wide smile that I think is supposed to hold some comfort in it. But she’s either full wattage or puckered scowl. I don’t think she’s figured out the in-between, or the surgical intervention prevents it. “Lana, could you sit with me a moment?”
Lance lifts his eyebrows as if to say, Good luck, and continues toward the Court. I follow Dr. Kendall into her black and white office and set my belongings on one of the delicate black guest chairs before sitting on the other.
Dr. Kendall remains standing with her hands folded. Instead of sitting on her throne, she stops in front of me and leans against her polished white desk.
“I’m sorry to hear about your mother’s condition. Mr. Harrison has agreed to keep in contact, so we can make you aware of any changes. And you clearly sustained some injuries while you were at home.” She shudders as if the thought of it is beyond her comprehension. “Please follow up with our clinician on Wednesday morning to assure you’re healing properly. And I’d like you to meet with Mr. Garner daily, so he can assess your emotional stability and provide any warranted support.”
I tilt my head at her odd choice of words. I suspect she doesn’t do the caring pep talks very often. She kinda sucks at them.
“I know it may be difficult for you to express yourself effectively, but it’s important. So please comply.” She lifts a tablet from her desktop. “In the meantime, I’ve notified the country club that you will be returning to work on Saturday but under physical limitations until you’re fully healed. And per your request, I’ve suspended Grant Philips and Ashton Arbor from your account. You can just as easily add them back.” She peers at me over the top of the screen. “And I hope you do.”
I stand, prompting her to end this impassive monologue. Perhaps Dr. Kendall’s really a drone.
“One more thing.”
I remain standing and fight back a groan.
“If you do decide to reinstate Mr. Philips as