Chapter 184

I see on the news that a demon of my past, Mr. Carpenter, has turned himself into the police. The police searched his home, and found disgusting content involving minors on his computer. It was enough, with his confession of having paid for underage victims that sealed his fate.

Meticulously, I watch every square inch of coverage I can find on the situation. I’m so happy this monster who terrorized me is finally being brought to justice.

But what about Edward?

There’s nothing about Edward.

Also, of all times, why would Mr. Carpenter suddenly feel the pressure to turn himself in? Did Edward tighten the noose? But that doesn’t make any sense. Edward wouldn’t want to have anyone that close to him in the custody of the police. What if Mr. Carpenter starts to talk about the orphanage?

I want to believe this will be the slippery slope that Edward will fall down, but he’s been too smart so far, protecting himself enough that he can even run for president. And be liked. And favored to win!

I’m flipping through the news channels when Miles walks into my living room and finds me huddled on the couch, wrapped up in blankets, totally entranced by the television.

“Esther? Is that blanket burrito you?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I reply.

He inches closer, close enough to see my eyes peeking through the layers of blanket. Then he follows my gaze to the television where the news broadcast goes over the Carpenter case again. By now, there’s not really any new footage to see, no more news.

But it feels like I’m dangling on the edge of the knife. Something could happen at any moment, and I don’t want to miss it.

“That asshole is facing justice. Finally,” Miles says. Turning his back to the screen, he looks back to me. “Are you okay?”

Am I? I don’t know. “I just wish I knew why now… It makes me nervous, thinking Edward might be playing some kind of mind games with me.”

Miles frowns a little. “I don’t want you to think that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” I ask. “I can’t believe Mr. Carpenter would suddenly start feeling guilty… about…”

As I speak, I have my eyes on Miles. The more I talk, the more he avoids my gaze. He’s doing that thing again, bunching up his shoulders and turning away, like he’s guilty.

Like he knows more than he’s letting on.

“Miles,” I say.

That’s all it takes. “Hugo and I saw and opportunity and we took it.”

“Miles!” I gasp. I push out of my blanket burrito enough to stand. I’m still wrapped up in blankets. If I try to take a step, I will fall.

“These assholes need to be brought down,” Miles says. “I’m not sorry for it.”

“How did you do it?” I ask him.

“I’d rather keep you out of it.”

“Oh, hell no. I’m in this more than anyone else.”

Miles shakes his head. “Our methods haven’t been the most… legal. The less you know is really better.”

Anger flares within me. “I’m not going to have you and Hugo running around doing who knows what, putting yourself in danger, just so I can sleep a little better at night!”

“Yes, you are,” Miles says. He meets my gaze again with that same stubborn look I’m growing used to seeing. I’m not going to settle for it though, not this time. Not with actual danger hiding around corners.

“This could ruin your career,” I tell him.

He shrugs like that doesn’t matter.

“Don’t do that,” I snap. “Don’t blow that off. Real people are putting their faith in you. They are depending on your policies. They are going to vote for you.”

“I’m not taking this lightly, Esther,” Miles insists. “Of course the future of the nation is important to me. As is my career. As is every single one of my constituents. But none of them, and certainly not me, are as important as you.”

He steps closer to me, staring down at me with an intensity that makes me feel seen. Exposed. Vulnerable.

“Miles…” I say again, weaker than before. I don’t know how to counter something so utterly heart-wrenching. God, I am in love with this man. Maybe I’m not ready to say it aloud, knowing we aren’t meant to be, but I feel it. I know it. “You can’t give it all up for me.”

“I would,” he says. He lifts his hands, cupping my face. “But I’m not. I don’t have to. Hugo and I are being careful. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

I don’t believe him, even as confident as he is. With Edward, something bad always happens. You may think you are safe for a time, but that is an illusion.

He knows how to build up false comfort, just to tear it all away. It hurts, remembering. But I will remember to keep Miles and Hugo safe.

“You have to let me help you,” I tell him. “No more secrets. That’s the only way I’ll be fine with any of this.” I won’t be happy so I can’t say happy. “I know how he thinks. I can help.”

“We don’t want you to…” Miles says.

But I give him my own stubborn look now, letting him know that I won’t back down. “Either I help you, or you don’t do it.”

Miles’s lip twitches. He must be thinking that he could sneak around if he really wanted to. He’s smart enough not to say that out loud.

“I’m tired of being treated like I’m made of glass, Miles. I’ve been dealing with this trauma for years. Now it’s finally within my reach to have my justice. I can’t just wait patiently on the sidelines. I want to help.”

He doesn’t seem happy about it, but neither am I.

“I want to protect you,” he says.

I place my hands over his on my cheeks. “You are,” I tell him.

That seems to be the final crack to break him. He closes his eyes as he says, “Fine.”

“Thank you,” I say, and lean up to kiss him.

Later, it’s finally my weekend with the girls. I have movie nights planned, as well as games out on the dining room. As soon as they come through the door, I throw my arms out wide, expecting hugs.

Iris and Violet don’t even look at me. They walk right past, and head down the hallway toward their rooms. I wait a moment, trying to understand the growing hurt within me. What just happened? I talked to them earlier and everything seemed fine. They didn’t seem mad at me at all.

Confused, I follow them down the hallway to their bedrooms. Violet’s room is empty, so they both must have gone into Iris’s. I knock on Iris’s door.

“May I come in?” I call.

There isn’t a response for a beat or two. Then Iris says, “Come in, Mom.”

When I enter, both girls are sitting on the floor. They aren’t crying, though Violet has some tears welling. Iris just looks pissed off.

“What’s going on?” I ask them, my stomach twisting uncomfortably. With everything going on in my life, I truly am afraid of what they might say.

It’s almost a relief when Violet says, “Dad’s girlfriend doesn’t like us.”

It’s nothing to be happy about, however. If Rachel is mistreating my daughters, I will go full scorched earth on her.

“Fiancé,” Iris corrects. “He’s going to marry that terrible woman.”

“Now, now,” I say, because though I don’t like her either, if she is going to be their step mom, they should respect her. As long as she’s not abusing them. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“She hates us!” Violet says, and the waterworks start.