Page 80 of Ethan & Grace

“How was work today?” my dad asked, clearly trying to maintain some semblance of normality.

“Same as always.” Which meant mostly stressful. The hotel bookings had been fluctuating wildly, depending on how the media was reporting on Mr. Darlington’s trial that week. On top of that, there’d been more staff resignations, and an increase in people taking sick days. I assumed it wasn’t just because Mr. Darlington’s trial was escalating, but also due to the presence of more and more reporters camped outside the hotel. And then there were the regular protests, which made getting to work a nightmare.

“Good,” my dad said. That was it.

Silence settled between us. My mum avoided my gaze as usual, picking up the mail she’d brought in. She started leafing through the letters and catalogues to look busy. It reminded me why I was avoiding my parents. It was better this way—for them, at least. They simply didn’t know how to deal with me anymore.

I was about to head to my room when my mum’s voice stopped me.

“Wait!”

I turned back.

She came towards me and held out an envelope. “This is for you.”

“Thanks,” I said, disappointed. I’d been hoping for something else.

I took the letter and went to my room. I rarely got post. Every now and then, I’d get a postcard from a friend or relative on holiday, but that was about it. I examined the envelope and noticed there was neither a return address or a stamp, just my name. Whoever it was from must have delivered it by hand.

I tore it open, and several photos slipped out. Photos of me.

“What the fuck,” I muttered. The photos showed me at various moments over the past few weeks. The first photo had been taken outside St. Thomas’ Hospital while I was on the phone with Kate. In the next one, I was on my way to work. The last photo had been taken right in front of our house.

My stomach twisted, and for a moment I was afraid I would throw up the pizza. Someone had been watching me.

Instinctively, I looked up at the window. All I could see was darkness and my own reflection. I hurried across the room and drew the curtains. What the hell was this?

With a sick feeling in my chest, I looked through the photos again and noticed that the surface of one was slightly uneven, as if it had been embossed. I turned it over, and sure enough, there was writing on the back.

What happened to your sister was an accident.

Stop asking questions.

Or you’ll regret it!

30

I miss the Vitalyn on days like today. I don’t know where my head is right now.

Everything at the hotel is total chaos, and my staff keep looking at me like I’m about to lose my mind.

Message from Henry to Olivia

Ethan

If someone had told me six months ago that I’d be spending a Friday night alone at home, I’d have laughed at them—but here I was. With a packet of crisps and a Coke, wearing my glasses and a hoodie covered in crumbs, I sat in front of the TV watching an anime Grace had recommended. Only a few weeks ago, I would have mourned my old life, but tonight, I didn’t miss it at all. Maybe because it had never been the life I truly wanted, just the one that made me feel the least vulnerable. But I no longer wanted to live my life in fear of getting hurt.

Who could hurt me, anyway? My dad? He’d already done so in the worst possible way. And by not living the life I really wanted, I’d inadvertently been letting him keep his power over me. That was the last thing I wanted, and so I was enjoying my night on the sofa to the fullest. The only way it could have been better was if Grace were here.

After our conversation last week, I’d worried things might be awkward between us—I’d broken down in tears in front of her, after all. But if anything, we’d grown even closer. Since then, I’d shared even more details about my childhood with her and had filled her in on how things stood between Henry, Logan, and me. I’d also kept my promise and played something for her on the piano. Just like the day at afternoon tea, I’d been nervous at first, but with each note I played, the tension eased. Grace had loved it. And God, her appreciation had felt so much better than my dad’s praise ever could.

I pulled out my phone and took a photo to send to Grace.

Me:

I’m watching Sk8. It’s not what I expected, but I like it. And am I just imagining it, or is there something between Reki and Langa? I hope you’re having a nice evening.

I knew Grace wouldn’t reply—she was out with Rose and Kate tonight—but I was looking forward to hearing from her later.