Page 48 of The Diávolos: Part Two
“We’ll be there,” Amanda confirms, and the others nod.
That went a lot better than I thought. I know they’re skeptical of Evander, especially after everything I’ve told them about him, but as my friends, they’ll support me no matter what.
“Thank you for being the bestest friends ever,” I breathe out with a relieved smile.
Hours later, I’m alone again, sifting through my things to decide what to bring tomorrow. I won’t be able to move everything at once, but enough to carry me for the first couple weeks.
I have no idea where I’ll be staying. Even though I recently spoke to mybabaabout coming back, I don't feel comfortable staying at his estate or in my old house that he owns.
Nevertheless, I have to tell him that I’ll be back in town tomorrow—minus the news of my upcoming nuptials. I’m sure he won’t take that well and I don’t want to anger him so soon.
I call the house and Eldora picks up. A comforting warmth dances across my skin at the sound of her voice and a smile tugs at my lips. “Hi, Eldora.”
“Kardiá mou, it’s so nice to hear from you. How are you?”
“I’m fine. How are things back home?” I ask, a slight rasp in my tone.
“Same old, sweetheart. Are you coming to visit soon?”
“Actually, I’ll be in Cebrene tomorrow,” I inform her, not looking forward to stepping a foot back there.
“Oh, wonderful!” I can’t help my smile at her excitement. “Have you told your father yet?”
“No. I was wondering if I could talk to him now.”
A few moments later, my father’s baritone voice flows through the speaker.
“Hello,kóri mou.”
“Hi,baba. I know you’re busy, but I wanted to let you know that I’ll be in town tomorrow.”
For some reason, speaking to my father still makes me nervous, regardless of how old and independent I am.
He takes a couple seconds to respond, so I check the phone to make sure the line hasn’t gone dead.
“That’s great, Giegie. Will you come by the house?” His tone gives no telltale of his emotions.
“If that’s okay.”
“This is still your home, Angelica,” he says firmly, no room for argument.
He’s being suspiciously pleasant again, and a subtle unease creeps over me. There’s something off, something that doesn’t quite align with the usual cold and formal rhythm of our interactions.
A nagging doubt begins to take root in my mind.
“Will you be there?”
“I will, but I have to leave town for business in the afternoon,” he replies.
The more I dwell on it, the more I realize that my gut feeling can’t be dismissed.
“Baba, is everything okay?”
“Yes, of course it is, sweetheart.”
A series of unanswered questions dances in my thoughts, so I take advantage of this time to ask him about my mother.
“Can I ask you something? If you’re not too busy.”
