Page 128 of Beautiful Exile

Ellie sucked in air but didn’t speak.

“She went to a lawyer to start the proceedings, but you know Dad. Eyes everywhere. He was waiting for her when she got home. Told her that if she tried to leave, he’d take every cent she had to her name and keep her from ever seeing us again.”

“There’s no way. It wouldn’t have worked,” Ellie argued.

“Wouldn’t it have? You know how Dad is. He’s got resources everywhere. Had a file of false evidence. And he made sure Mom knew it.”

“She must’ve been so scared.”

My rib cage tightened around my lungs, making it difficult to draw in a full breath. “She was.”

“How?” Ellie whispered. “How did you know?”

“I overheard them.” I could still picture everything as if it were yesterday, pressing myself against the wall next to the stupid priceless statue I’d wanted to smash into a million pieces. “He was cheating on her. Repeatedly. And after that day, he rubbed it in her face. Made sure she knew exactly what he was doing.”

“Mom,” Ellie croaked.

“I know,” I rasped. “He beat her down, little by little. And that accident, on the bridge… El, there were no skid marks, no evidence that Mom tried to brake.”

Ellie was quiet for a long while, and I gave it to her. Everything I’d just piled onto her required time to process.

“He killed her.”

“Yeah. He did.” Though it wasn’t by cutting brake lines or sabotaging her engine. He killed her by stealing her life away, little by little.

More silence reigned. Finally, Ellie spoke again. “I need to go.”

“El—”

“I’m okay. Maybe I’m finally seeing things clearly now. But I have some things I need to do.”

“Let me help?—”

“No, Linc. I need to do this myself. I’ve let too many people step in for me in my life. I need to handle this on my own.”

I knew what Ellie meant. The life she’d lived had been one ofprivilege, but it didn’t come without a price. And maybe she was done paying it.

“I’m here for you,” I said. “You need a safe place to land, I’ve got you.”

“Thanks, ConCon. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

She hung up before I could say anything else. I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at the device, hoping like hell I’d done the right thing.

47

ARDEN

The music pulsed around me,through me, blaring in a way that would probably cause some permanent damage. But I didn’t care. I needed it.

As if it cleansed my system, getting all that darkness to purge, bleed out of me and into the sculpture. The only problem was that it felt like I had a never-ending supply. Just when I thought I’d gotten it all, a new flood would rise.

So, I simply kept creating.

I should’ve been at The Collective, helping set up for the show and auction, but Farah had assured me she had it under control. And she was meant for the job. Ordering people around gave her a kick, and no one would be stupid enough to give her a hard time.

Maybe I’d ask if she wanted Denver’s job. A pang lit just thinking his name. I hadn’t heard a word from him since. And maybe that was for the best.

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