39 • The Art Gala

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I should have laid down after I hung up with Connor, but I couldn't relax

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I should have laid down after I hung up with Connor, but I couldn't relax.

Instead, I sat in the middle of my bedroom floor until the sun rose, sifting through a cardboard box full of old memories. Reading old notes and sorting through pictures, unable to stop thinking about what my sister had really been trying to tell me on our last phone call.

I reached for my notebook where I'd written down all the facts.

Maybe she wasn't trying to convince me to be brave. Maybe she was trying to convince herself to do the unthinkable: confront an Admiral as a junior Lieutenant.

Did Lydie believe Admiral Tenney would come for her? Or was I being irrational and wanting to blame him for all the evil in my life?

Unable to answer that question objectively, I continued to sit with my sister's memory until I finally fell asleep on my bedroom floor—thinking of South's smile while cradling my sister's photograph to my chest.

My dreams turned to screeching tires and breaking glass. Gunshots and scars and split lips. Uneasy rest had me twisting and turning until I was startled awake by the sound of a knock at my door. Sweat dotting my forehead and an ache in my neck.

"Camilla?" came my mom's voice.

"Yes?" I answered, trying to sound less shaken than I was.

The door opened, and I drew in a sharp, painful breath. South Tenney's stupidly handsome face peered back at me. A cherry lollipop between his lips and a suit bag slung over one shoulder. His pretty hazel eyes widened when he saw me.

"What's wrong?"

"South!" I said in surprise, forcing myself into a seated position and realizing a folded piece of notebook paper was stuck to my arm. "Nothing," I added. "I was just looking through some of Lydie's things, and I guess I fell asleep."

I wanted nothing more than to forget the events of the last two days and just let him hold me, especially when he was looking at me like I wasn't lying on my bedroom floor like a crazy person.

"Babe," he said, closing the door behind him, "if you were upset, you should've called me. I've been really fucking worried about you."

South hung his suit bag in my closet before taking a seat beside me.

I ran my hands through tangled hair, not sure what to say. There was so much I wanted to tell South—so much I wanted to warn him about, but I was also wondering if there were secrets he was keeping from me too.

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