Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
2
OPHELIA
Present Day
Iunlock the front door of my childhood home. I haven’t lived here for over three years, but it’s always been home. Now, though, since Dad’s arrest and very public trial, since the federal agents trampled through every room, pried into every corner, and dissected every aspect of our lives, I feel more like a stranger here than ever. It’s almost like they somehow erased the past. Like that past doesn’t belong to me.
I leave the lights out for a minute and lean against the closed door. I take a deep breath in, exhale. I need a few minutes. I want to hear the stillness of this place, smell the familiar smell of the house, and memorize it all before it is no longer mine.
Moonlight shines in through the windows, illuminating the multitude of boxes packed and ready to be moved into storage. Whatever the FBI didn’t seize, that is.
It’s only slightly warmer inside than outside. The central heating has been switched off for weeks. I unwrap the scarf from around my neck and set it, along with my keys, on top of a box near the door, then walk toward the kitchen at the back of the house. My heels click, and I glance out through one of the windows to see the realtor’s sign in the front lawn with the big SOLD sticker proudly spanning it. The sale is almost finalized, just waiting on the last of the signatures.
We had to sell it. We had no choice. I would have loved to have held on to it. Dad would have loved that too. I always thought I’d move back home after college once I got married. I’d have my own kids and raise them here with Dad and Tonia. Childish, I know.
Now, it’s all different. It doesn’t feel at all mine. Standing here, I feel like an intruder.
In the kitchen, I switch on the light. This was Tonia’s domain. She’s living with her sister in Portsmouth now. She stuck around as long as she could and kept the house running while Dad was on trial and I was away at school. She didn’t complain when we couldn’t afford to pay her anymore, didn’t say a word. She just hung on and lived off her savings until she couldn’t.
I miss her.
I miss Dad.
I miss my life.
It’s selfish, I know. I still have so much, and so many have far less, but it’s how I feel.
Soon, the moving truck will come, and all the boxes will go into storage. Soon, I’ll be standing at this kitchen counter where I ate most of my childhood meals with Tonia for the last time.
I walk out into the hallway and head upstairs. There are two things I want before the movers come. First, I go into my dad’s room and switch on the light. It feels so strange being here. As I look at the stripped mattress, I wonder where he is right now, if he’s in his cell. I guess so. It’s late.
I wonder if he can sleep. If he’s afraid. If he has a plan.
When I called his lawyer, John Higgins, to ask about his options, about an appeal, he told me what I already knew. In a last-minute turn of events, Dad had changed his testimony. He took a plea deal. There is no appealing that.
Truth is, I haven’t been there for him like I should have been. It’s been hard, knowing what I know about the charges, about the money that’s missing, that my dad allegedly embezzled and stole the life savings of so many people.
To top it off is what he tried to do to Sullivan Fox, who was once his best friend and business partner—not to mention the father of my fiancé. He dragged Sullivan’s name through the mud, almost destroying him.
It’s a complicated situation and one I’m struggling to navigate.
With a deep sigh, I sit on the edge of the mattress and turn the engagement ring on my finger. The princess diamond on the platinum band is heavy and bigger than I’d have chosen for myself. I remember the night Ethan gave it to me, remember what happened afterwards.
Complicated doesn’t begin to cover it.
Not only am I engaged to Ethan, but when we lost everything, Sullivan Fox didn’t turn his back on me like I’d fully expected him to. Instead, he’d taken me in like I was his own daughter.
When Dad implicated him, Mr. Fox didn’t treat me any differently. He paid my college tuition and let me live in the apartment they own in Boston. He bought my books and made sure I had everything I needed. He gave me a place in his home, a family to turn to. He took care of me as if I was his own family, telling me it was important to focus on my studies and not to worry about anything else. He waved away my offers to pay him back and told me that no matter what my dad had done, I would always be like a daughter to him.