Page 37 of The Golden Hour

Intuition blooms, making me bristle. “You’re blackmailing me.”

He shrugs. “Call it what you want. I think of it more as making you an offer you can’t refuse.”

My voice comes thick, “And what offer is that?”

“Invite me into your life, and I won’t out you to Vivian.”

My stomach goes leaden. “You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?” he sneers. “Prove to me you want what I want. Work with me toward that goal.” He pauses, head tilting. “Or are you having second thoughts? Enjoying your return to power?”

“Fuck you.”

His humorless grin slices me. “I almost did.”

“You’re disgusting,” I seethe.

“What’s it gonna be, princess? A new boyfriend, or a media lynching? Doesn’t matter to me—either one ends Vivian’s bid for governor. But can you imagine what the world will say when it comes out that you staged your own abduction? Lied to the cops? The entire nation?” He whistles softly. “You might be the one who ends up in a beige jumpsuit.”

Trembling, near tears, I whisper, “I hate you.”

“I don’t care,” he retorts. “I’ll pick you up next Saturday at seven for our date, the first of many. From this point on, you’re taken. By me. Like it or not, we’re going to do this together.”

“Bullshit,” I growl. “They’ll never buy it. I can’t stand you.”

Another chuckle, low and dark. “Oh, I think you can. I’m giving you a week to remember how much you liked me when we met.”

He steps back, hand on the doorknob. “I’ll go first. Thank you for the tour, it was enlightening.”

“Suck a dick.”

He snorts. “Don’t worry, dick sucking won’t be expected in our arrangement. Until next week, Callisto.”

Then I’m alone in the closet with my thumping heart and scrambled mind.

21

Every morning, Aunt Molly watches the news from the couch in our rented apartment, a cup of tea in one hand and a small notebook in the other. Callisto and Vivian—and sometimes one or both of the sisters—appear on the usual programs. Today Show, CBS This Morning, Good Morning America…

The conversations are so scripted, everyone so polished and fake. And Callisto’s story is the same every time. A series of soundbites to appease the curious public.

“…very little memory of those days.”

“Yes, I’m beyond happy to be home.”

And the coup d'état:

“In the last six years, I met many homeless or otherwise at-risk young people in the United States who desperately need a voice. With my stepmother’s help, I’m founding a charity called Reach the Stars, which will focus primarily on services for homeless teens.”

This has me chuckling every time I hear it. Not because I don’t think it’s an admirable idea, but because with it, Callisto has given me valuable insight into how she plans to play her stepmother.

She wants to be the very Trojan horse I once imagined her as—and the army inside will be public opinion. Even if Vivian did manage to sidestep any accusations or evidence Callisto brought to light, her political career would be over.

I’m only a little unnerved by how flawlessly she handles the limelight, the questions, the celebrity. There are more than a few clips of her being mobbed by weirdos convinced she’s a vampire, as well as teenyboppers and grown women on the fame-train.

Molly’s also collected an obscene number of magazines with society pages featuring Callisto at different events, toasting with flutes of champagne and mingling with the rich and famous.

I have no idea how she’s handling it mentally, but all of it must be taking a toll. The lies that spill so sweetly from her lips, the constant microscope on everything from what she’s wearing to whether she’s getting therapy for PTSD.

---