an aunt?”
He palms the back of his neck. “Mom cut ties long before I came along. She’s drunk more than she is sober, but I had no other choice. I offered her all the money I’d saved up from working for Luciano, which was enough to buy her silence.”
My jaw drops. “You just left me there? With a neglectful drunk?”
“No.” He scowls like he’s actually offended. “I told her to give me a few weeks and I’d be back for you when I figured a more permanent arrangement.” Dominic’s hand drops from his neck, his eyes glazed with frustration. “What was I supposed to do? Your face was splashed across every television screen from here to China.”
“So, what happened?”
“Within a week you were gone. She said you ran away in the middle of the night. I spent months driving back and forth from LA looking for you, but you just disappeared.”
My stomach twists again. At eight years old, I just walked away and wandered the streets of Phoenix, Arizona? How the hell did I end up at a group home? “I don’t remember that. Why can I only remember pieces?”
“Because what you went through was traumatic.” He cautiously cups my chin. “You blocked it out for a reason, rook. Your mind protected you. It picked out what it wanted and locked it away. Believe me, some things should be left in the dark.”
“Then who is Angel Smith? Where did she come from?”
For the first time since he destroyed my world, Dominic smiles, his thumb tracing my cheek. “What did you say after I told you I was the Angel of Death? Come on, you know this.”
I think hard, spinning back through his words like a Roulette wheel, until the little white ball lands in the black slot and I look up at him. “Will you make me an angel, too, so I can fly away?”
He nods. “I didn’t have to make you an angel, Alexandra. You made yourself one.”
He won’t leave me alone. No one will leave me alone.
Dominic, Hilda, and the whole staff hover like vultures ready to shove their greedy little beaks into my flesh and destroy what’s left of me.
Me.
Angel Smith.
I’m still in here, desperately hanging on by the tips of my fingers. Dangling over that cliff screaming for help that no one hears. But she hears me.
Her.
Alexandra Romanov.
She’s in here, as well, forcing her way inside my head with her memories and her voices. She steps on my fingers and smiles down at me. She’ll win.
I’ll fight until I fall.
For now, my wardens have left me in peace to wander the one place I want to be.
The east wing.
Baby-proofed, of course. There’s no broken mirror, no sharp objects, no clothing, no loose ties. Even the wreath has been taken down and the window boarded up. If the whole situation wasn’t so fucked up, it’d be comical.
I walk the perimeter of the room for what has to be the twentieth time. My mind won’t let me remember, but I stop every time in the same spot in front of the door. I know that’s where she died. Where she took her last breath in a pool of her own blood.
Blood that I drew. A life that I took.
I wonder what the floor looked like. I squat down and run my hand along the new, pristine marble. I wonder if there are remnants of my sins buried underneath. I stand with a low chuckle. Of course, there are. The past can’t stay hidden forever. Sooner or later, it demands to be heard.
I walk again, tracing my same path, trying to remember how to fix this. How to fix me. Because Angel Smith may crack but she does not break.
I come to a dead stop.
Angel Smith may crack but she does not break.
Violet says that. Violet’s my glue. She always puts me back together and fixes me.
Digging into the front pocket of my hoodie, I pull out my cell phone and dial her number. My cheeks feel funny, and I realize it’s because I’m smiling. I’m smiling. It’s been so long since I’ve smiled, I think my face forgot how to do it.
Violet will answer, and Violet will remember.
It doesn’t ring. A computer voice tells me the number has been disconnected. That can’t be right, so, I dial again and get the same voice. Walking faster, I call again, and for the third time get the same message.
“No!” I yell into the mouthpiece. “It is not disconnected. You’re wrong!”
Look