open before I can reach for the knob, her thick accent calling out, “Sebastian! Oh, goodness! You’re soaked.” Her eyes dart to Sugar, down to our clasped hands, over to the howling crate, and then back to Sugar again. A million questions cross her face, but she straightens her shoulders and says, “Come inside and get out of the ice.”
We step inside and Liesel fusses over our wet shoes, sternly directing us to take them off. I shuck off my coat, take Sugar’s from her, and see Liesel staring into the crate.
“That mama cat is close.”
“I know,” I say, “that’s why we brought her here. Where should we put her?”
“There’s space in the garage,” she says.
“I’ll take her to my bathroom,” I declare, shutting down that train of thought now. “So she can be close to us.”
She gives me a scandalized look. “Your bathroom! But the towels!” Liesel has the biggest fucking hard-on for perfectly white towels, but I’m not sitting in the garage all night, and neither is Abby. Liesel must see the determination in my expression, because she admits a swift defeat. “I’ve got some old linens in the laundry room that you can use.”
“Thank you,” I say, noticing again that her eyes dart to Sugar. She’s gone silent next to me while her eyes bug out, taking in the tall, ridiculously grand foyer. “Er, Liesel, this is Sugar, a friend from school.”
“Oh, a friend.” Her eyebrow raises skeptically. Before she can grill me more, Abby lets out the low, deep howl of a frightened animal in pain. “Go on, then. Take her upstairs. I’ll bring up the supplies.”
The three of us cut through the house, Sugar quiet at my side even when Liesel breaks off from us at the corridor to the laundry rooms. My fingers are still linked with Sugar’s, keeping her close. There’s a small part of me that’s terrified she may bolt at any moment, and a lot of it has to do with that constantly startled look in her eyes. It’s not like there’s anywhere to go, but rationality has never been a strong character trait for Sugar when she’s panicked.
“My room is up here,” I say, climbing the stairs off the kitchen. I’m propelled by her silence to continue talking, filling the gap. “My mom’s suite is on the other side of the house, so Abby shouldn’t bother her. Not like my mom would care. I just…” I don’t finish that train of thought. I’m not sure what shape my mom is in tonight, or if we should bother her, or what kind of reaction she would have to me bringing Sugar home. Liesel barely kept her mouth shut, obviously dying to find out more. “I think the best idea is to get her settled in the bathroom. Maybe in the tub? Or is that weird? The floors are heated and it stays pretty warm in there, and look, don’t worry about Liesel and the towels. I swear she sleeps with a bottle of Clorox or something. It’s like her magic elixir.”
I continue talking as we walk down the long hall, passing the ominous, closed door to Heston’s rooms, before turning into my own. It’s been a long time since I’ve brought anyone in here, and even then, it’d never been a girl. The first room we enter isn’t technically the ‘bed’ part of the ‘bedroom’. It’s a sitting room, with a door leading to the proper bedroom just inside. When we enter, it’s immaculate, thanks to Liesel’s staff and the fact I live in the dorm ninety percent of the year. It’s always just been my bedroom, but I’m not stupid. Most people don’t have a living area in their bedroom, or a bathroom the size of a small post office, or a balcony that could comfortably entertain most of my lacrosse team.
The walls are painted slate gray, matching both the décor and bedding on the enormous king-sized bed. My mom—or really, her decorator—picked it all out. On the shelf against the far wall, there are a few items that make a halfhearted attempt at defining me. Lacrosse trophies and awards. A picture of our family from years ago, on a trip to Europe. Classic novels from all my past literature classes are stacked underneath. Over the desk is a huge Atlanta United flag. I point out the hidden flatscreen that pops out of the floor, because even I think it’s cool. If Liesel didn’t clean in here every week, everything