Page 28 of Love Conquers All

“And you don’t understand that you’re killing the world!” Sylvie’s breathing was shallow.

James groaned and put his face in his hands.

“Please, Dad,” Sylvie begged. “Please, don’t send me away.”

James’s voice was thin when he said, “Just go up to your room. I’ll fill out the application myself.”

Sylvie wanted to rip up the application. But she knew that applications could be reprinted. They could be re-sent. She got to her feet and shot up the stairs, anxiety splintering her heart. When she reached her bed, she realized she was too exhausted to call Graham. Tomorrow, she’d spell everything out to Valerie,and Valerie would help her hatch a plan. But right now, she knew her father was downstairs, filling out the fine details of her seventeen-year-old life: name, birthdate, birthplace, mother’s name, father’s name. Her father was ashamed of her, ashamed of the struggles she’d brought to the Nantucket Tourist Society and their connection. She could hear him wondering why God cursed him with a daughter like that.

The next day, Sylvie was needed at the front desk of The House on Nantucket. She’d told Graham she was going to bail but decided at the last minute that it was better to make her father think she genuinely cared about his life, his world, and his occupation. So she found herself answering phones, cleaning bathrooms, and greeting guests. Eventually, Graham swung by with worry in his eyes, bending over the counter to kiss her. But at that moment, James entered the foyer, spotting them, and Sylvie pulled away from Graham. Graham looked injured.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sylvie said, brushing it aside and trying out a fake smile.

James remained standing a few feet away, watching them.

“You want to grab food after your shift?” Graham asked.

James answered for her, “Sylvie’s needed at home.”

Sylvie’s pulse quickened. Graham turned to look at James. Now standing at five foot ten, he was nearly as tall as James but not quite. Those three extra inches James had on him—plus the sixty-five pounds or so—made James someone not to be messed with. Still, Graham hardly shrank in the face of him.

“You can’t make her work at the inn and also make her go home,” Graham said, surprising Sylvie with his bravery.

“I’m her father,” James said. “I can do whatever I want.”

Graham’s eyes were struck dumb. He turned to look at Sylvie, muttering, “Let me know if you need anything.”

But Sylvie remembered those applications to a Maine boarding school. She remembered her formidable father in the middle of the night, daring her to mess with him.

Maybe she’d teased the bear long enough. He was coming after her. He was going to eat her.

Over the next few days, James hardly let Sylvie out of his sight. He disconnected her phone line and forced her to work long days at the inn. Graham tried to catch her when James wasn’t in the foyer, begging her to explain what was happening, but James had a habit of checking on them every few minutes, which gave them limited time. All Sylvie could say was, “Things are bad right now.” Her father had forced her to dye her hair back to its natural color—from pink to brown, and she felt strange and unlike herself.

“My mom can contact the authorities,” Graham breathed.

Sylvie stuttered. “The problem is, I don’t think he’s really doing anything wrong. Not legally.”

Graham looked deflated. “What about the Fourth of July? The poster is only half finished.”

Sylvie took a sharp breath. “I don’t think I can finish the poster.”

Graham’s shoulders dropped. “It’s just a poster.”

But how could Sylvie explain? They’d pushed the boundaries long enough. Graham’s mother was supportive—endlessly cool about her son and his girlfriend’s quest to save the world—but James was ready to ship Sylvie off.

When Sylvie and James returned home that evening, he told her he’d sent off four boarding school applications and hoped to hear back within the week. Sylvie felt her stomach thrash. Like a dead-hearted adult, she sat at the kitchen table with her hands stretched across the wood and asked, “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

But James said there wasn’t. “I don’t trust you. Not as far as I can throw you.”

Sylvie’s eyes welled with tears.

James said, “You can come back to visit. We can reassess at Christmas break. Maybe, if you stop all this carrying on and making a fool of yourself, you can come back and finish your senior year here. Maybe.”

“You’re going to yank me from one place to another just to see if I’ll do what you want me to?” Sylvie whispered.

James shrugged. “It’s not a test. I’m just trying to make sure you become the best version of yourself you can be.”

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