Chapter 5

I dragged my suitcase downstairs. The lights in the living room were still on.

Mike stood by the door, looking like a sentry guarding the only way out. He put a hand out to stop me. "Where are you staying for tonight?"

I said, "Somewhere I can breathe."

"Don't do this," he said, his voice tight. "You know the press is all over the family right now. If you walk out that door—"

"You're not worried about the press," I interrupted. "You're worried about what I'll say."

His hand dropped, hanging stiffly in the air.

Mom came out of the kitchen holding a steaming mug. She walked up and offered it to me, her voice a little rough. "Drink this before you go."

I took the mug but didn't lift it to my lips. The rich, sweet smell of the cocoa hit me. It felt like a lump in my throat I just couldn't force down.

I gently placed the mug back in her hands. "Save it for Charlie, Mom."

Charlotte came down the stairs, draped in Mike's jacket. Then she walked up to me, her voice barely above a whisper. "Joanna, are you leaving to find Ethan?"

I didn't answer.

Then, out of nowhere, she slapped me. The sound was sharp and ugly.

"Who do you think you are?" she cried, her voice breaking. "You came back to steal Mike, and now you're trying to take Ethan, too?"

The force of it snapped my head to the side.

Mike rushed over, but went straight to Charlie. He took her hand gently. "Did you hurt yourself?" he asked, his voice all concern.

I slowly turned and watched them, and something in me just broke.

So I slapped her back.

Charlie stood there, frozen, a tear caught on her eyelash. She looked shocked, like a doll someone had forgotten to animate.

Mom screamed, Dad yelled, and the housekeeper scrambled in a panic.

Mike's face turned stormy. "Joanna!"

I met his glare, my voice quiet and clear. "You asked me where I was going. Here's your answer."

I pulled my suitcase across the threshold, then paused to look back at the house one last time. "I'm going somewhere I don't need anyone to leave a light on for me."

It was pouring even harder outside.

I hadn't even reached the gate when Mike chased after me, thrusting an umbrella into my hand.

His voice shook as he spoke, "Don't do this. If it's money you need, or a place to stay, or a car, just tell me. I'll make it happen."

I took the umbrella, my grip tight. A bitter laugh escaped me. "What I want isn't something you can buy."

He gritted his teeth. "What do you want?"

I looked up and met his eyes. The truth I'd carried for years finally broke free. "I want you to admit you saw the green light, my one clear chance. And I want you to admit you chose to shut it off."

Mike went pale. A heavy silence fell between us, broken only by the downpour.

Finally, his voice dropped to a strained whisper. "Joanna, if Charlie breaks, she won't recover."

"And what about me?" The words came out sharp, raw. "If I break, am I just acceptable collateral?"

He jerked his head back as if I'd slapped him. Rain ran down his temple, tracing a cold path he didn't seem to feel.

He called my name, his voice raw and worn. "Joanna Sterling."

That was my real name. He hadn't used it in seven years. My heart gave a hard, painful squeeze.

But before I could say anything, he said, "Don't force me to choose."

I pushed the umbrella back into his arms. "I'm not forcing you. You already made your choice."

Then I turned, dragging my suitcase through the front gate. Behind me, the heavy iron gate swung shut with a final, metallic clang.

A motorcycle waited at the corner, its headlight cutting through the rain.

Ethan stood beneath the streetlamp, raincoat zipped up to his chin, holding a spare helmet.

He didn't ask a single thing. He just slipped the helmet onto my head and said, "Let's go."