Page 5 of Pretty Secrets

One of the girls starts to curtsy, “Prince—”

I hold back a barely restrained laugh. Oliver, however, practically rolls his eyes. “Oliver is fine.”

“Are you sure?” she asks.

“Am I sure my name is Oliver? Quite,” he answers without giving her a second glance.

I poke him in the side when the girl looks like she could cry. Sure, Oliver is technically a prince by birth and all that jazz, but he’s not. Notreally. His grandmother can’t even publicly claim him because he’s the product of a scandal everyone knows about but won’t discuss. If you ask me, he’s got the best of both worlds.

I step forward, and the line of four girls all move their gazes to me, their expressions paling as they take me in. “Wow. You must be Eden. You look just like—”

“I know,” I interrupt, squelching the bitter pain that blooms inside my chest.

The first girl apologizes. “You probably get that a lot. We’re so glad you decided to stay with us. We boxed up Delilah’s stuff yesterday, and we just want you to know we miss her so much. She was an amazing—”

I turn my gaze toward the area where the girl’s stare has wandered and find a dozen or so boxes taped and labeledDelilah. My stomach plummets. “You boxed up her stuff?”

“Yes,” she says brightly. “We—”

My jaw clamps together as irritation spreads through me. A growl rips up my throat, “You touched her stuff without—”

“And that’s our cue,” Oliver speaks up, interrupting my verbal assault. He entwines our fingers and tugs me up the wooden stairs past my gobsmacked roommates, my luggage thumping behind us. “You certainly know how to make a first impression,” he says as we approach Delilah’s old room.

He swings the door open, and the complete barrenness of it slaps me in the face. I’d been looking forward to seeing Dee’s room decorated how she had it. Not to mention I’d been hoping to find something to go on. A clue. A piece of evidence. “Fucking bitches,” I seethe.

“They were trying to be nice.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” I turn around in a circle. This could be anyone’s room. Actually, it’s no one’s room. It’s deserted. Not one single thing of Delilah’s is left in here. “No one asked them to do this.”

Oliver sets my luggage down and closes the door behind us. Before he does, I spy his hired servants turning the corner to climb up the next set of steps.

Here we are, the two of us, enclosed in white walls and expensive-looking furniture. The hardwoods need a good sweep and dust has accumulated around the windowsills, except for the areas where Dee must have had something sitting. But I’ll never know what, will I?

I run my hands through my hair, tears threatening at the corners of my eyes. It’s like I’m losing Dee all over again. She was here, at least the remnants of who she was were all sitting right here as if she never left.

The complete emptiness of this room hits me right in the gut.

“Do you want me to go kick their arses?” Oliver asks. When I don’t respond, he sighs. “It’s probably for the best, Eden. You don’t want to live with her ghost.”

I snap my gaze toward him. Just because he’s my best friend doesn’t mean we see eye t0 eyeallthe time. “It’s not about that,” I fume. “Whatever information we could’ve gathered is fucking packed away in a box because those dumb, rich bitches don’t understand anything. What if they threw shit out?”

Oliver blows out a breath, watching me. Turning, he yanks the door open and stops the first servant he sees. “Bring the other boxes from the foyer into this room…now.” The servant hesitates as a few of his colleagues pass with more boxes. “I said now,” Oliver grinds out.

“Right away, Sir.”

My best friend turns, his previous harsh tone now subdued. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” I deadpan.

“Hey,” he says, moving forward, and I suddenly feel like a bitch for not being cheery during our reunion. I missed him, I really did. It just feels like there’s so much on my shoulders right now. He slips a strand of my hair behind my ear. “We’re going to figure this out. I promise. I’ll be the Watson to your Sherlock Holmes. I’ll single-handedly go through all the boxes myself if that’s what you want.”

I take a deep breath and let it out. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I know,” he grins.

He puts his arm around me and squeezes as his hired staff bring in all of Dee’s boxes one after the other. Who knows what we’ll find in them. Hopefully something useful, but if we don’t, at least Oliver is here to help put together the puzzle pieces.

Relief floods through me. I’ve been alone for practically the last year, so this feels welcome. Like I have a partner again. Someone to lean on.

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