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He slipped from her room in the early hours of the morning.
With a kiss to her brow, Sinjin tucked the blankets in around her, the scent of him lingering long after he’d gone. Lying awake in the still, heavy darkness, Breanna held his pillow to her chest. She should go back to sleep. Lord knows, after last night, she could use it.
Her well-used body thrumming in all the right places, Breanna’s mind would not rest. Alone, pesky thoughts crept in to niggle at her brain. She tried to make sense of them, but she couldn’t. It seemed as if everything she’d once surmised wasn’t true at all.
An average middle-class upbringing, she saved up birthday and babysitting money and worked a part-time job for the down payment on her car. She studied hard to earn a scholarship so she could go to college, not knowing she had a gazillion dollars at her disposal.
But Mom knew all along, didn’t she?
If her mother and grandmother managed the money her father left for her, they had to have kept in touch with each other, which explained her photograph in Valerie’s room. Taken the summer before last on Venice Beach, Breanna had a strawberry ice cream cone in her hand. She made a dripping mess of that cone. A scorching hot day, the ice cream melted faster than she could eat it.
That Breanna never got to meet her grandmother no longer made any sense, but then keeping memories of her dad from her didn’t either.
Why, Mom?
And what else was Sarah Benjamin keeping from her?
Breanna started thinking about all the things she could’ve had, but didn’t. Time. Painting flowers with her grandmother, building a snowman with her grandfather—how old had she been when he died? Maybe Francie would’ve taught her how to make something other than a bowl of cheap ramen noodles.
She could’ve known Sinjin, Derek, and all the St. Johns long before now. And that was weird to think of.
She could’ve known her family. And her dad through them.
She could’ve made her own memories in this house, on this mountain.
But her mom kept her away. Did she even know Valerie was dead? Or did she keep that from her, too?
And Sinjin? He wasn’t telling her everything, either. Breanna felt it in her gut.
“Your gut won’t lie.”
Yeah, and hers was screaming.
Sinjin didn’t come right out and say it, but then he didn’t have to. She wasn’t stupid. Despite her lack of fluency in legalese, it was quite clear. Derek was trying to get her to sign her family’s legacy away. Don’t attorneys take an oath or something? Because the falsification of documents was downright criminal.
There was a lot more going on here than she knew. Of that, Breanna was sure.
Secrets and lies.
The past could never be changed, but knowledge is power, right? As long as she was stuck here, she’d unearth every last one. And she knew exactly where to start.
Knowing sleep was futile, Breanna pushed the covers off and got out of bed. Still naked, she went over to the window, peering out into the predawn darkness. Beyond the mountain peaks, a moonless sky was just beginning to lighten, and the snow hadn’t yet begun to fall.
She switched on the lights to the ensuite, the sudden brightness jarring. Standing before the full-length mirror, Breanna studied her reflection. She wasn’t the girl she was before she came here. She didn’t feel like the same girl either. It wasn’t her swollen lips or her just-fucked hair that made her see herself differently.
Sinjin had irrefutably altered her perception of herself. In a good way. The best way. Unlike the rest of the world, he expected nothing of her, except to be her true self. And that was fucking life-changing.
After a long, luxurious shower and a fresh blowout, Breanna sat at the vanity crisscross applesauce, putting on her makeup. The bruising faded, the swelling above her eye was gone. She could conceal what remained easily, so at least she wouldn’t resemble a hideous Gila monster.
With another storm coming today, she had no intentions of leaving this house. Not like I could, anyway. She snickered to herself. Her only plan was to go back up to the third floor and poke around a bit. Fill her belly with more of Francie’s fancy food. Maybe later she’d curl up with a good book and watch the snow fall with Sinjin.
Thanks to Kayleigh and her Pinterest-worthy packing skills, she dressed herself in a loose, soft, surplice-wrap sweater, her favorite ripped-up jeans, and a cute pair of knit ankle booties. And by the time she made her way downstairs, the dark morning sky had turned into a shade of deep and dismal gray.
His cheeks reddened, wearing jeans and plaid flannel, Sinjin sat warming his hands on a mug of hot coffee when she came into the kitchen. Breanna couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him looking like that.
Then, glancing up, he smiled back. “Good morning, princess. Thought you’d sleep ’til noon, considering I kept you up half the night.”
“I think you’ve got that backward,” she quipped, walking over to the coffeemaker. After turning it on to brew, Breanna turned around with a smirk. “It’s me who kept up you.”
