Fallen

Kandace’s shoulders drooped, disappointment and frustration making her want to scream. “Psychiatric issues, my ass,” she hissed. “What a bitch.” If that woman wouldn’t help them, no one would. They were completely on their own. Except for her.

A sense of deep responsibility overtook her, the unfamiliar need to protect. But Kandace had no proof that those kids were even there, nothing to use. “Fuck,” she said, kicking the edge of the desk like a helpless child.

What about the pregnancy? You have that. It’s proof that one of those men raped you.

Is it?

Now that she was thinking about it more clearly, she realized that if that was all she had, it might not be enough. She’d run away. And she’d make accusations that what? Some guy in town knocked her up in some illicit sex racket? They’d say she was crazy. A liar. Nothing new. She didn’t even know what the guy who’d impregnated her looked like. She’d been unconscious. Even if she hadn’t been though, even if she could point her finger directly at the man, she was worldly enough to know it’d go like this . . . yes, she snuck into town and seduced me. I’m so ashamed to have had dirty, illicit sex with that filthy woman, but it was consensual. It’d be her word against his, and as it’d been pointed out quite often, Kandace was a known liar. And a whore.

No, she needed more. And she wanted more. She no longer just wanted to leave, she needed to save those kids. But then she considered the last time she’d gone searching for truths there. The scalding water. The steel brush. The welts. The bruises upon bruises under bloodied skin. Would she survive if disciplined again?

Kandace suddenly wasn’t sure. Ms. West could go straight to Ms. Wykes now. Oh God. She placed her hand on her stomach. What had she done?

She took the two steps backward and leaned against the board, letting her head fall back against it with a soft thud. Hopeless. This was hopeless.

Kandace turned her head, her gaze going to the place where Ms. West had written the infirmary nurse she’d recommended to Kandace. Weird actually. Why would she tell Kandace the name of the infirmary nurse? She’d been there for months. Only . . . Kandace pushed herself off the board, moving closer to the chalk-drawn letters. It wasn’t only one name. It was three. Kandace sucked in a surprised breath, glancing over her shoulder. It wasn’t a nurse’s name at all. Ms. West had given Kandace the names of the kids’ mothers.

Kandace read them once, then again, committing them to memory. Then she picked up the eraser and wiped the board clean.CHAPTER THIRTY-TWOScarlett took a sip of wine, the crisp pinot grigio sliding down her throat. This was her third glass in two hours and she hadn’t spotted hide nor perfect golden hair of Royce Reynolds or any member of his entourage.

But it’d been five minutes since she’d watched the two men she recognized as part of Royce’s security team, chatting in low, serious tones as they walked to the bank of elevators and disappeared into the car at the end that she knew rose to the suites.

Despite the wine buzz, the sight of them had energized her. She hadn’t necessarily expected that any of the same people that had been part of Royce’s team eight years ago would still be part of it now, but it could not be a coincidence that Royce was—probably—staying at this hotel, and she’d just spotted those men.

Follow them.

Scarlett took in a deep breath, pulling a tip out of her purse and setting it on the bar with a nod to the bartender. The wine went to her head as she stood and she faltered slightly, straightening her dress, and walking into the lobby. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a man with a familiar walk and did a double take. Her heart jolted. Was that . . . no. He walked behind a large pillar and when she leaned around it to get a better look, he was gone. Feeling suddenly off kilter, as though two worlds had collided in some unknown way that she didn’t understand, she moved toward the nearby restroom door, heading inside where she stood at the long row of sinks, taking deep cleansing breaths as she tried to decide what to do.

“Party? Presidential suite?”

Scarlett turned her head, looking at the girl a few sinks down, leaned toward the mirror, slicking lip gloss on her lips. She eyed Scarlett, her gaze going to Scarlett’s dress and down to her heels.

Presidential suite? Scarlett paused but then nodded, noting that the young redhead was wearing a black dress similar to hers. Had she unwittingly dressed for some part she hadn’t realized she was playing?