Sam grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head, then stepped into her jeans, zipping them up. How was she being so calm right now?
“Look,” she said. “You need to talk to your mom. She’ll tell you everything. I promised her I wouldn’t—”
“You promised her? You can’t be serious. You and Mom are in cahoots now?”
“That’s not what’s happening here. Just—”
“Tell me what’s going on, right now.” Bianca couldn’t keep herself from yelling. “This letter, my mom… tell me!”
“Whoa.” Sam held up her hands. “No need for that. I’ve told you what I can. Let your mom tell you the rest.”
“I can’t believe you.” Letter in hand, Bianca pushed Sam aside and stomped down the hall leading to the living room. “Everyone always keeps me in the dark. Everyone treats me like a fucking child! I thought you were different, and now you pull this?” She turned to face Sam, who was following at her heels, and stared her down. “Tell me, or get the hell out!”
“I…” For the first time that morning, Sam’s resolve wavered. “I can’t. It’s not my place.”
Bianca pointed to her front door. “Then get out.”
“Bianca, I can’t leave you alone when—”
“Have you not heard anything I’ve been saying? I don’t need you to coddle me. I don’t need you at all. Get. Out!”
Sam flinched. But she didn’t protest. She just turned and walked to the front door.
It wasn’t until she had one foot out of it that she spoke again. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Bianca crossed her arms. “Just leave.”
As Sam left the apartment, Bianca’s front door had never sounded so heavy. Nor had her heart ever felt so burdened.
* * *
While the clock ticked on the wall, Bianca sat on her couch, back straight and eyes fixed on the space between her front door and the letter on her coffee table.
Her mother. Her whole family. Sam.
None of them trusted her to know what she wanted, let alone to look after herself.
That wasn’t new. What was new was this level of hot, searing anger. She knew what it was like to be upset. Mad, even. But anger? The way it dug beneath her skin and settled deep into her veins was unlike any other emotion she had experienced before.
That was how hard Sam’s betrayal had hit.
She glanced at Sam’s jacket on the floor. After banishing her bodyguard, Bianca had remembered she was still wearing that stupid jacket. She’d ripped it off immediately. It made her skin crawl to have it touching her skin.
As she glared at the jacket, directing all her rage through her gaze, Spike approached it tentatively. He gave it a sniff, pawing at it a few times before curling up on top of it and looking up at Bianca with sad eyes.
“What are you looking at?” she muttered.
Her words only elicited a plaintive meow as Spike burrowed deeper into Sam’s jacket.
“Oh, so you actually like her now? Probably because you’re both prickly assholes.”
But she didn’t have time to argue with her cat right now. She picked up her phone. For the past couple of hours, she’d been working up the courage to call the number in the letter. Because she wanted answers. And she couldn’t trust Sam, or her Mom, to tell her the truth.
It was now or never.
One ring.
Two rings.