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He hasn’t changed much. Wavy brown hair, green eyes, and skin that’s tanner than the rest of us from all the time he spends volunteering outdoors, looking the same as he did four years ago.
“Maribel,” he whispers, his eyes bright and wet with emotion.
I pull him into me, and we hold on to each other, basking in the connection. I step back and motion for him to enter my room, locking the door behind him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, unsure what his take is on all of this.
“Taking over Q’s job of busting you out of this place.” His lopsided grin appears. “Not for good sadly, but I thought we could go for a drive. Go to our spot.”
He means the waterfall. It’s where he, Q, and I used to sneak away to as kids when Simon and Antoine, my other two brothers, annoyed us. Which was seventy-five percent of the time.
While sadness fills my chest that he can’t somehow get me out of this situation, I am thrilled about the temporary relief. “How will this work? What if we get caught?”
Mathéo chuckles, always the easygoing and laid-back one. I don’t think he knows what anxiety even feels like. “My little hellraiser of a sister is worried about getting caught? Since when?” I laugh at that, and he continues, “Do you trust me?”
“Of course. You’re my brother.”
And I do. We may not have seen each other in years, but I’ve never once had a problem with Mathéo. In fact, he’s the purest of us all. He constantly spends his time giving back to our community and is the sweetest person I’ve ever met.
He motions his head toward my door, while putting a finger to his lips.
“Then follow me, Cami.”
Warmth fills my chest at the fact that he called me Cami, acknowledging the new life I’ve created for myself and the most authentic version of me.
Mathéo pops his head out the door, checking to see if the hallway is clear. He then motions me to follow him. We quietly tiptoe down the hallway until we reach a large art piece on the wall, stopping in front of it.
“Mathéo, why are we stopping?” I whisper.
Mathéo just grins and pulls on the frame, revealing a hidden door.
“Are you serious? How did I never know about this? I could’ve escaped so much more easily all those years ago!”
He puts a finger over his mouth, reminding me to be silent as we quietly make our way through the dark corridor, using his phone for light to guide our way. Within minutes, we reach another door, which opens up to the courtyard on the back side of the palace where his car is parked.
We quickly get in and as we drive down the curved path to the gate, I can’t help but ask, “What about the gate? Won’t security see us?”
“I may or may not have turned off the gate cameras before I came to your room,” he admits, looking sheepish.
He’s never done a bad thing in his life, so I can imagine he feels a bit guilty.
“Thank you, Mathéo. I needed this breather.” I sink into the seat, feeling the tension leave my body the farther we get away from there.
His grin is wide as he looks over at me, then focuses back on the road. “Just so you know, I never hated you for leaving. I only wish you had let me in on the secret.”
My own guilt creeps in at his admission. “I’m sorry. It truthfully happened so fast and you were gone that whole year. I didn’t want to bother you.”
“You can always come to me. You’re family,” he affirms. “We’re good, just do me a favor and say yes, okay?”
“To what?” I tilt my head in confusion.
“You’ll see.”
Chapter Forty-One
Camille
Mathéo’s car winds down the country road, the palace long gone from our rearview mirrors. With each mile behind us, I feel lighter yet slightly nervous.
