Chapter 3

My older brother brought me back to the Henson mansion in Shallow Bay.

A high fever on top of an asthma attack left me unconscious in bed for three whole days.

When I woke up, Mom was sitting on the edge of the bed wiping away tears, and Dad was raging in the living room.

I leaned against the pillows, strangely calm.

The butler knocked and came in.

"Sir, ma'am, Mr. Sanchez is here."

Dad shot to his feet. "Tell him to get out."

"Mr. Henson, don't be so angry—"

Bruce Sanchez pushed the door open and walked straight in.

He was still in a custom-tailored suit, his hair combed without a strand out of place, a thermal box in his hand.

Dad pointed right in his face and cursed, "You still have the nerve to show up here? Look what you've done to my daughter!"

"Sir, it's just a spat between the two of us. April's stubborn. I came to smooth things over."

He ignored my parents' glares and sat down at the edge of the bed.

He opened the thermal box himself, lifted out a bowl of gourmet health tonic, and stirred it gently with a spoon, blowing on it to cool it.

"April, sit up and eat something," he said, his eyes carrying a self-satisfied tenderness.

I looked at him coldly. "Get out."

His hand froze. He set the bowl down and sighed.

"How long are you going to keep this up? Didn't I have Clarence burn that robe? Everyone in our circle is like this. You can only be Mrs. Sanchez—no one can take that from you. But you're too well-behaved. You can't give me any passion."

"So you go after those movie stars and pageant queens just to find passion," I said, my voice hoarse.

Bruce shook his head and leaned forward to look into my eyes.

"They're just casual flings. But Mabel is different."

The moment he said the name, a kind of excitement and obsession surfaced in his eyes.

"She's the lead singer of an underground band. She makes me feel a wild kind of aliveness," Bruce said, without a trace of shame.

"But I promise you, she'll never get through the Sanchez family's door. The place of Mrs. Sanchez is yours and yours alone."

My nails dug into my palm.

Bruce pulled a document out of his pocket and held it out to me.

"This is the land deed transfer for that plot up on Summit Peak. You've always wanted it, haven't you? Take it, have some fun."

He paused, then went on, "We're pushing the wedding back six months. I'm going with Mabel on her tour across Continental City. When I'm back, we'll have the wedding."

I shoved him away and doubled over the edge of the bed, retching.

Bruce's face changed sharply. He took out a handkerchief and dabbed at the corner of my mouth.

"April Henson, that's enough. I'll give you time to cool down. When you've made your fuss, bring the deed and come find me yourself."

He turned and strode out.

I leaned into Mom's arms and wiped the sour water from the corner of my mouth.

"Mom," I said, my voice perfectly calm, "book me a flight to London. The sooner the better."

I didn't want him anymore. I was done with him completely.