Page 23 of The Golden Hour

The car veers in a smooth arc around a gaudy, imported marble fountain and comes to a stop before the oversized front door.

Hugo exits the car with me, leading the way toward the front door, which opens as we approach it. Light spills out, along with rosewater perfume and my smiling stepmother.

“Callisto!” she gasps, rushing down the steps in a flurry of silk, pearls, and surgically enhanced beauty to take me in her skeletal arms. “My sweet girl, God be praised, He brought you back to us at last. How I wish your father could be here!”

Her too-tight embrace makes my skin crawl. It only takes a moment for me to find the hired photographer standing behind a nearby row of bushes. No doubt he captured every moment of her graceful flight from the house to me, as well as the tears on her face, likely courtesy of eye drops.

“I’m so glad to be home,” I say, then extricate myself from her grip to look toward the empty foyer. “Where are Ellie and Lizzie?”

Vivian ignores me, tucking her arm in mine and pulling me into the gilded foyer with its huge portrait of my father that, with one glance, I still don’t think resembles him. Hugo follows us in, closing the door with a resounding thump. My stepmother releases me to pat the damp skin beneath her eyes.

“Eleanor will drive up from UCLA in the morning, and it’s late, so Elizabeth is sleeping. She’ll greet you tomorrow.” Her voice has dropped its saccharine pretense, reverting to the crisp tones I remember well.

I nod, my face carefully blank.

“Your old room has been repurposed, so I had the staff make up a guest room for you. If you’re hungry now, you can help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen. When you’re finished, I’d like to see you in my office.”

“I’m not hungry, thank you.”

After a pause in which her dark green eyes scan my face, she looks pointedly at Hugo. The fine fabric of his suit whispers as he takes a step forward and clears his throat.

“The police would like a current medical exam to compare to old records.”

Vivian nods. “Very well. What else?”

“Enzo is scheduling interviews with the usual morning shows for next week.” His gaze slides to me. “Long enough to decide how to… present everything.”

“Good. That will be all for this evening, Hugo. We’ll reconvene at three sharp tomorrow afternoon.”

Hugo takes the cue and leaves. As the front door shuts, a maid darts from an adjoining room to lock it.

“Come with me, Callisto. We need to talk.” Expecting my compliance, she moves toward the hallway, high heels rapping sharply on tile.

“I’d like to take a shower and go to bed. We can talk in the morning.”

She jerks to a stop, her head swiveling toward me, eyes narrowed to glittering slits. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m exhausted. I’ve been driving the better part of three days.” I gesture at the elegant space around us. “Honestly, I’m at my emotional max right now.”

“You’ve changed,” she states flatly.

You haven’t.

Since now isn’t the time to start the real game, I offer a placating smile. “I’ve been through a lot, and I’m overwhelmed with finally being home. I hope you understand.”

Enhanced lips curve in a facsimile of a smile. “Of course. Get a good night’s rest. I’ll see you in my office no later than eight tomorrow.”

It’s not a question, but I say, “I’ll be there.”

Her shrewd eyes appraise me, but no matter how good an actress she is or how much Botox lives in her smooth forehead, I can tell I’ve rattled her. Unable to help myself, I close the distance between us and hug her like she’s the mother I wanted, not the monster I loathe.

Because the goal isn’t for her to see me as an opponent.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I whisper into her soft blond hair. Drawing away, I sniff back nonexistent tears. “I’ve missed everyone and everything about my life. We have so much catching up to do.”

I’ve shocked her—that much is clear—but she recovers swiftly. “Yes, we do.” For a moment, I think I see genuine feeling in her eyes. Then she blinks and steps back. “Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She glides away, but pauses to turn back. Tears—real ones—shimmer in her eyes. “Welcome home.”

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