登入Brooklyn's POVRiley said nothing about the hallway.She walked beside Emerson toward the dining room and whatever she had seen or concluded stayed exactly where it was — behind her eyes, unspoken, filed away. She was good at that. I could see it from the kitchen doorway as they rounded the corner together. The way she had composed herself so quickly told me she was someone who collected information quietly and decided later what to do with it.I gave it three minutes and then followed with the water jug.---The dining table looked the way Patrick's dinners always looked — precise and expensive and designed to communicate something about the kind of family the Westons were. The caterers had done everything correctly. I had nothing to do except stay available, refill glasses, remove plates at the right moments, and be invisible in between.I was good at invisible.I moved around the table at the intervals I had learned from the first dinner. James Holloway talked business with Patrick
*Brooklyn's POV"Move," I said."In a minute.""The house is full of people." I glanced toward the dining room door, then back at him. "Anyone could walk through here right now. Move.""Let them." He uncrossed his arms but didn't shift from the spot. "I want an apology first."I stared at him. "An apology.""From you. To me." He held my gaze. "For the trouble.""What trouble?""The cell, Brooklyn." He said it quietly but with enough weight to fill the whole hallway. "Three days. Because of the bracelet situation.""Which I did not cause.""Which you absolutely — ""I did not ask you to buy me a bracelet." I kept my voice low and even. "I did not ask you to leave it at my door. I did not ask you to sneak into your father's study. I did not ask you to do any single thing that resulted in any of what happened to you." I held his gaze steadily. "So no. I will not be apologising for something that was entirely your own series of decisions."Something sharpened in his expression."Say that
Brooklyn's POVPatrick told me at breakfast."The Holloways are coming again," he said, not looking up from his phone. "Friday evening. I've arranged caterers but I need you to oversee them in the kitchen. Make sure everything runs properly.""Of course," I said.He looked up briefly. "The last dinner was interrupted. This one needs to go smoothly."I nodded and said nothing about turmeric or fake allergies or the note I had folded into someone's palm under a dining room table."Seven o'clock," he said and went back to his phone.---Friday came faster than I wanted it to.The caterers arrived at five and took over the kitchen with the particular organised chaos of people who did this professionally and did not need my input but required my presence to sign off on things and answer questions and make sure nothing was put in the wrong place.By six forty five they were mostly done. I was putting things back in order — returning items to their proper places, checking that the counters w
Brooklyn's POVI stood in the kitchen for a long moment after he walked away.Just stood there looking at the doorway he had gone through and trying to locate the logic in the last fifteen minutes of my life. I could not find it. I had looked thoroughly and it was not there.One moment he was buying bracelets and writing notes and sending them to my door. The next moment I was somehow responsible for him being locked in a cell. One moment he was catching Daisy in hallways and reading bedtime stories and looking at me with something unguarded and real on his face. The next moment he was walking away without a word like I was the most exhausting thing in his life.I thought about asking him directly. Going after him and standing in his doorway and saying — what are you doing? What is this? What are we doing?I thought about it for thirty seconds.Then I went to my room, sat on my bed, and called my mother.---She picked up on the first ring."Brooklyn." She said my name the way she alw
Brooklyn's POV"Are you serious right now?" I stared at him. "You want me to tell the whole school it was you?""I didn't say that.""Then what are you saying? Because those were the only two options available to me in that classroom. Jordan claimed it or the entire school spent the rest of the week deciding which teacher I'd slept with this time to earn jewellery." I kept my voice even but it was taking effort. "Which version would you prefer?"He said nothing."That's what I thought." I crossed my arms. "Jordan covered for me. I didn't ask him to but he did and I'm not going to apologise for accepting it.""I still don't like it.""You don't have to like it." I looked at him directly. "My promise to stay away from Jordan still stands. I meant that and I'm keeping it. But I need time to do it in a way that doesn't look suspicious. I can't just suddenly cut him off after everything that happened yesterday without people asking questions.""Time," he repeated."Yes. A reasonable amount
Brooklyn's POVI woke up to the sound of a door.It came through slowly — the soft click of it, the small change in air pressure that meant someone had opened something nearby. I was still half asleep, Daisy warm against my side, and for a moment I just lay there listening.Then I heard footsteps.I opened my eyes.Emerson was standing in the doorway.He looked different. Not badly hurt — nothing obvious — but there was a tiredness around his eyes that hadn't been there three days ago and something in the set of his jaw that said the last seventy-two hours had not been comfortable. He was still in the same jacket he had been wearing when Patrick had driven away with him.His eyes went straight to Daisy.The expression on his face when he saw her sleeping — tucked under her blanket, completely out, her sketchbook still on the pillow beside her where she had fallen asleep holding it — was the most unguarded thing I had ever seen from him.Then his eyes moved and found me.The expression
Brooklyn's pov "Here is the deal." Emerson leaned against the hallway wall, arms crossed, voice low enough that Daisy couldn't hear from the dining room. He looked completely relaxed, like he negotiated truces every morning before breakfast. "I stay out of your way," he said, "so you're free to
Brooklyn's pov "Time to feast."I heard Emerson say — cleats still on, grass-stained from soccer practice, heading straight for the kitchen like the fridge owed him something.I stayed on the couch and waited.The silence that followed was deeply satisfying."What the — " A pause. Then louder. "Why
Brooklyn's pov "I'm really sorry, Mr. Weston. I can't work for you."The words came out before I could stop them. Patrick turned from the hallway and looked at me slowly, the way someone does when they're deciding how serious you are."Brooklyn." His voice was calm. "You are contracted through th
Brooklyn's pov "Move!"Emerson shoved past me before I could even process what was happening. He threw himself over Daisy and me, arms spread wide, taking the full weight of the branch across his back.The crack was loud. Then silence.I scrambled to my feet, heart hammering. "Emerson — ""I'm fin







