Chapter 50: Homecoming's Chill

The familiar hum of the jet engines changed, a slight shift in pitch indicating our descent. Beyond the small, thick window, the glittering, sprawling grid of home assumed the place of the patchwork quilt of French countryside and the distant, hazy shape of Paris. The knot of fear which had loosened over seven glorious days tightened at once in my stomach, coiling cold and heavy. Paris, with its crowded streets, Dan's laugh which was contagious, and the heavenly, if fleeting, lack of him, had been a fading dream. Reality, in the form of the Blackwell house and its volatile owner, waited down below.

Dan, bless his chaotic, wonderful soul, had been the anchor. Sitting on his slightly lumpy sofa that first night, clutching a mug of his notoriously strong, slightly-burnt tea, I’d poured out the toxic cocktail of the pool confrontation, Ethan’s baseless accusations, and my furious, dripping escape from the hotel suite. Dan listened, his brow furrowed in concentration, radiating a calm prag