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“Do you want me to drive you to their house? The hospital?”

“I want somebody to answer their fucking phone,” I snarl. “What is the point of owning fucking cell phones if you’re not going to answer them?”

I dial my mother’s cell phone. It rings three times. I hang up and toss the phone on Lev’s bed. I cover my face with my hands, settling on the bed as I try to think. It’s past midnight. They’re sleeping. It makes perfect sense that they wouldn’t answer their phone.

I stand up. The world is unsteady as I start walking toward the door. Lev’s hand grips my elbow as he steadies me.

“Where do you want to go?” he asks.

“Home,” I say. I use the heel of my hands to hide any evidence of tears. “My parents’ house.”

He nods.

* * *

The lights in my parents’ house are on. It should be reassuring, but I know if my mother was in a rush to leave the house, she wouldn’t be worrying about the electric bill. Lev is still pulling into the driveway when I open the passenger door and bound out. I hear his voice, concerned and nearly angry, but I ignore it as I pound on my parents’ door.

After nearly five seconds pass by, I try the doorknob. It’s locked. I slam my fist against the door three more times.

Lev runs up beside me.

“Ally, two cars are in the garage—” he starts. The door swings open. My mother looks at the two of us, her eyes wide and confused.

“Mom.” I grab her, hugging her tightly before pulling away. “Where’s Dad? Is he okay?”

I’m nearly choking on my own voice. Lev’s hand settles on my back, his other hand on my hip.

My mother’s face softens. “Oh, Ally, I’m sorry, he’s fine. We should have called. I’m sorry. He’s not here. One of the officers picked him up and took him to the hospital to check on the policemen, but he’s fine. Come in. Please, come in. I’m so sorry to make you worry. Come in.”

My parents’ house is a tribute to law enforcement, the Marines, and houseplants. The walls are covered in newspaper clippings and photos of my father and grandfather’s service. The floors are covered with houseplants that prickle my legs every time I pass them.

My mother gestures for us to sit in the living room. “I’ve got some coffee started. I’ll get some tea for you, Ally. Is coffee good for you, Lev?”

“I’d be grateful for that, Mrs. Harrington,” he says.

I sit down on our couch—the same couch I filled out college applications on while my father helped me with the essays. Lev sits down beside me. His hand squeezes my knee before he leans forward to kiss my temple.

“Everything is good,” he says. “Just breathe. Your father is fine.”

I don’t say anything. My hands are shaking. He folds his hands over mine like he’s keeping them warm. I should be reassured—none of my worst fears came true. My father wasn’t even hurt. But all I can think is: not this time. He wasn’t hurt this time. If he’d died tonight, I’d know that he was angry at me over a lie and that I ruined a man who gave me everything I could ever need.

The second thought creeps in slowly, but I push it away before it has time to make itself at home.

My mother returns with two cups of coffee in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. I take the tea from her and Lev takes the coffee.

“Thank you so much, Miss Harrington. I’m so sorry if we scared you,” Lev says.

“Oh no, it’s—it was my mistake. I should have called Ally.”

Lev is like the serpent in Eden, lulling her into a sense of faith in his words. I’d never noticed it before, but he did the same thing to me when he convinced me to marry him in exchange for keeping Douglas’ murder a secret. He must do it with every model he meets. He must do it with the board members in Mariya’s Revenge, assuring every one of them that the Bratva rumors won’t hurt their bottom line. He must do it with all of the Bratva members, allowing him to stay in power while they all kneel to him.

I thought his power over me was because we were compatible—not quite soul mates, but like the statues of Lady Justice, where I was the set of scales, weighing evidence, and he was the sword, carrying out justice.

Lev and my mother continue to talk, the conversation branching from Mariya’s Revenge to my mother’s green thumb. He tells her that his mother was killed and his father was a ‘deadbeat’ that disappeared. He lies so seamlessly, it’s embarrassing that I ever believed anything he ever told me.

The second thought sneaks back in: how certain am I that he was at a Mariya’s Revenge board meeting earlier tonight?

He told me quickly about it before leaving, saying he was discussing advertising for their new flavor of vodka. But he came home late and I never asked him about the meeting.

The way my mother is acting toward Lev, my father must not have told her the full story. On one hand, it seems insane to me that he wouldn’t forewarn his wife. On the other, I didn’t warn either of them.

“Ally used to think that snakes lived in our snake plants,” my mother says. “She thought the eggs grew in the leaves and they’d come slithering out someday. She wouldn’t go anywhere near them. Do you remember that, Ally?”

“Sure,” I say, setting my tea down on the end table and standing up. “Lev, could I talk to you outside for a moment?”

If he’s surprised, I don’t see it on his face, but my mother raises both her eyebrows.

“Of course,” he says, standing up. “We’ll be right back, Mrs. Harrington.”

He follows me out of the house. I walk out toward the mailbox, so I know we’re too far

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