Page 7 of Liars

We found an article about his home published by the Elmwood Historical Society. It gave no address, only that he bought the house on the south side of Elmwood with his late wife. I lived on the other side of the city. The lowerpart of Elmwood was known to be rougher, a not-so-desired neighborhood.

The house itself surprised me. According to the feature, the Willows Estate, or just the Willows, was one of the oldest homes in the state. When Donovan bought the property, he preserved as much of its charm as he could. It had to be one of the biggest in the area. Not as large as half the houses on the north side of Elmwood, but those neighbors surrounding mine were Elmwood’s elite.

The home received its name due to the willow trees flanking the long driveway leading up to the entrance. From the pictures, I could see how the wispy branches hung and intertwined to form a canopy, like a covered bridge. The dark-red bricks of the two-story home showed signs of weathering. Columns connected by archways framed the front porch, leading to the entrance.

It was a thing of beauty. Inside and out. I couldn’t deny it looked well-loved and appreciated. As someone who also loved beautiful things, a part of me was intrigued by the home, curious to see and feel the history that had once lived in those walls.

I learned two things about Donovan Corvo. He had a thing for preserving beauty. And his wife had died.

“There are worse places you could live,” Kenny commented, her eyes lifting from her phone, doing her best to be uplifting about a really fucked up situation.

My head sank against the pillow. “I’m so screwed.”

3

KAYLOR

I’d hoped Kenny or Carson would be able to pick me up at the hospital. A few hours of normalcy before my life went to shit, was that too much to ask? I had to pack my bags and say goodbye to the home I’d grown up in.

My parents bought the house on Shady Court when I was eight. I barely remembered the small place we lived in before. The thought of never spending another night in my bedroom made me want to run away. More than anything, besides bringing my parents back, I wanted to go home. But home wasn’t just walls and furniture. It was the memories. The reminders of my old life were everywhere: the photo booth strips from summer carnivals and the little memory box stuffed in the back of my closet.

I sat stiffly on the edge of my hospital bed, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, as the door creaked open, and in stepped a man with an imposing presence, shaking my already shattered world.

Donovan Corvo.

He was tall with sharp, angular features that looked carved from stone. His dark suit was immaculate, his posture commanding. But his eyes stood out—piercing light green, scanning the room with a calculated intensity.

“Kaylor,” he said, his voice low and measured, like the hum of distant thunder. He had a to-go cup of coffee in his hand. A gold band with what looked like a bird engraved on it encircled his ring finger. “I assume you know who I am.” His eyes glanced over my injured shoulder, giving it nothing more than a passing thought as if what happened meant little to him.

That horrible feeling I’d had since yesterday compounded in my gut. “Supposedly, you’re my godfather.”

“I understand your hesitancy. You probably don’t remember me, but I remember you. Believe it or not, I was there when you were born.”

Bullshit.

The word sat on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it. I didn’t trust this man. Every instinct in me screamed danger. “My parents never mentioned you,” I said flatly.

“It’s a travesty, what happened. I’ve been in contact with the detective assigned to your parents’ case. I won’t rest until their killer is found and brought to justice. You have my word.”

My chin lifted as I swallowed hard, my instinctive anger and fear bubbling up in equal measure. “At least we have one thing in common.”

“I’m told you’re being released. It’s time for us to go.”

“I didn’t ask for this, to go live with a stranger,” I said, meeting his gaze.

Donovan didn’t flinch. “Neither did I. But your father trusted me with your care, and I intend to honor his wishes.”

I wanted to snap back, to scream at him. I only glared. “Even if it isn’t what I want? Doesn’t my happiness matter at all? I havefriends I could stay with. An aunt who would be glad to take me in. I doubt you even want a kid to take care of.”

“I have four boys. One more mouth to feed won’t be any trouble, but most importantly, it’s what your parents wanted,” he replied evenly. “Doesn’t that mean anything toyou?”

The subtle slap stung.How dare he throw that in my face.Especially when their loss was still so raw and fresh. Hurt burned behind my eyes, but I fucking refused to cry in front of this man. “You don’t know anything about my family.”

“I guess we have the time for you to tell me.” He lifted his coffee to his lips, taking a sip. “I’ve made arrangements. My staff gathered what you’ll need from your room—clothes, personal items, anything they thought was important. If something is missing, you can let me know.”

“You went through my stuff?” I asked, indignation rising in my voice. I got this image of him going through my underwear drawer, and now I couldn’t erase it from my mind. It was a new level of violation, and I didn’t like it. Not one bit. Even if it was his staff, someone had gone throughmythings.

Hell no.

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