Dear Diary, why do I keep talking to you as if you’re a person? I’m writing to myself. I’m writing to nobody. Daddy came home stumbling again. He punched Ceddy in the mouth and left him bloodied. He kicked me in the guts and said he’d rather die than let his whining, shameful children take the business over from him. Father can be a real bastard. Ceddy said it doesn’t matter what he says. He’ll be dead soon enough. Think he’ll follow through? I hope so. Love, Connie.
I stared at the passage and read it over and over before finding an article about the murder of Maurice Yardley, my mother’s father.
It was brief and sparse on details. The local paper didn’t have much to say. Oil baron stabbed to death in his own home. Local vagrants were suspected. I sighed and closed the article before I leaned back in my chair.
The front cover of the composition book had a single name written in black marker: Connie Yardley.
My mother, now Constance Orchard.
I turned back to the computer and did one more search. The public records were sparse, but I found an address for a man named Cedric Yardley, still alive, and living in nearby Palo Alto. I wrote it down and pushed back my chair.
A shadow appeared at my side as I stood. I expected Palmira, and was prepared to give her a lecture on boundaries, but the words died on my lips.
Nervosa stared at me with a slight quirk to his lips. “What’s that?”
“Excuse me?” I took a step back, away from his presence. He was overwhelming and terrifying all at once.
“The book. Looks old.”
I stared down at the composition book before shoving it into my bag. “It’s nothing. What the hell are you doing here?”
“You always seem to ask the wrong question.” He glanced to the side. Palmira stood in the stacks with her jaw clenched tight.
I waved her away. “You should be careful. One of these days Palm’s going to knock you out for stalking me.”
“Doubtful.” But he glanced in her direction before following me toward the exit.
“Why are you hanging around a college campus? Don’t you have a crime family to run?”
“I can do both. Besides, I’m enrolled.”
“You’re enrolled?” I tried not to let him see the fury that sizzled in my guts.
“I don’t have a degree. I thought it might be fun to get one.”
“You can do anything you want in the whole world, and you want to play student at Stanford?”
“You are. Why not?”
“I’m not playing.” I shoved through the glass doors and outside. Palmira followed, but not too close.
“You’re the sister of an Oligarch. You should be at Blackwoods or somewhere more appropriate. The fact that you’re going to school in my territory fascinates me.”
It was the most I’d heard him speak all at once. “I didn’t want to go to Blackwoods. Too many people like you lurking around the shadows.”
“There aren’t many people like me.”
I snorted and shook my head. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”
His lips quirked again as he studied me. “Why were you looking up your uncle’s address?”
I grimaced and stared at the ground. “It’s none of your business.”
“Sounds like it is.”
“How? You dragged me to your stupid meeting. You gave me your warning. What else do you need?”
“You’re up to something.” He stopped, grabbing my wrist.
I stopped with him. Palmira shot me a look and I glared back. I didn’t need her fighting my battles. I sucked in a breath and met Nervosa’s gaze, even if it did send a tingle of strange delight down my fingertips.
“I spent my entire life cooped up in some stupid house. I want to be a normal person for a little while.” Which was true, if not the full story.
“And I want to control all of France. Yet here we are.”
“Stop it, okay? Why don’t you leave me alone?”
“I told you already. I’m fascinated by you.”
I pulled my wrist from his grasp and hurried on. He didn’t follow, only stared as I shoved my way through a group of girls talking in loud voices. They shouted after me but I didn’t care.
Nervosa’s gaze hung like a wreath around my neck.
Palmira caught up with me halfway across campus. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Looks like he rattled you.”
“He was spying. But now I know to be more careful.”
“This have something to do with whatever you saw in the library?”
I stopped and faced her. “Let’s get something straight. You’re here as my babysitter, not as my best friend.”
“That’s a given.”
“Let’s make a deal then. You leave me the hell alone and let me try to be normal, and I won’t make your life more difficult than it needs to be.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
“Good. Now stop following me around. I have class.”
She squinted but sighed. “You’re right. I should go find Nervosa and follow him instead.”