Chapter 8 No.8

The next morning, Carleigh was standing in Harley's bathroom, trying to make herself look like a professional art restorer using Harley's drugstore makeup, when her own phone rang.

She froze. The screen said Francine Parker.

Kenton's mother.

Carleigh debated not answering. Francine was the only person in the Parker family who had treated her with kindness. But she was also Kenton's mother.

She swiped answer. "Francine?"

"Carleigh, dear." Francine's voice sounded weak, breathless. "Where are you? Kenton said you went to a spa?"

He lied. Of course.

"I... yes. I needed a break."

"Oh." A ragged cough rattled through the phone. "I hate to interrupt your relaxation, darling, but... the doctors. They're worried about my heart again. The arrhythmias."

Carleigh gripped the sink. "Are you okay? Are you in the hospital?"

"No, no. I refused to stay. I'm going to the Hamptons estate for the weekend. To rest. But... I don't want to be alone. I feel... fragile."

"I can come visit," Carleigh said instantly.

"Wonderful. The whole family will be there. You and Kenton. It might be my last family gathering for a while."

The guilt trip was subtle, masterfully executed. Carleigh knew Francine played up her illness to manipulate her children, but she also knew the heart condition was real.

"Francine, I-"

"Please, Carleigh. For me? I just want to see my son and his beautiful wife happy together. Just for one weekend."

Carleigh closed her eyes. She couldn't say no to a dying woman. Even if that woman was the mother of the devil.

"Okay. We'll be there."

She hung up and groaned.

"Let me guess," Harley said from the doorway. "The Matriarch?"

"She wants us in the Hamptons. This weekend."

"Don't go. It's a trap."

"I have to. If she dies and I wasn't there..." Carleigh sighed.

Her phone beeped. A text from Kenton.

Mother called me. She says you're coming. I'll pick you up at noon. Be ready. And wear something that covers that bandage. We are playing happy couple.

Carleigh typed back: I'm doing this for her. Not you.

She quickly emailed Harvey Freeman, rescheduling her interview to Monday due to a "family emergency." Freeman replied instantly: Talent waits for no one, Vee, but for you, I will make an exception. Monday.

At noon, the Maybach pulled up. Carleigh walked out wearing a long-sleeved cream dress that hid her bandage. She got into the back seat.

Kenton was there. He looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes. He looked at her, his gaze sweeping over her dress, lingering on her face.

"You look..." He stopped himself. "Acceptable."

Carleigh sat as far away from him as the leather seat allowed. "Don't speak to me unless Francine is in the room."

"Fine by me," Kenton muttered.

The car pulled away, heading toward the highway. The silence in the car was heavier than lead.