Chapter 4

The day I decided to leave the Harbor District, the observatory hoisted a Category 8 storm warning.

A violent storm swept across Harbor Island.

I didn't take a single thing Bruce Sanchez had given me. I just carried one plain suitcase and got into a taxi to Kendall Airport.

The road to the airport was jammed solid, choked with trees the typhoon had knocked down.

The taxi stopped at a red light.

I turned to look out the window. The newsstand on the corner was swaying precariously in the wind.

A few newspapers were caught up by the gusts and plastered against the car window.

On the front page, several large red characters stung my eyes.

"Playboy Heir's Wild Night at the Peninsula! The Sanchez scion throws money around, locked in a hot street kiss with wild girl Mabel."

The photo showed Bruce Sanchez pinning a heavily made-up girl against a floor-to-ceiling window in a deep kiss.

I forced myself to look away, but tears blurred my eyes before I could stop them.

Ten years of my youth, ten years of being a lowly little tagalong.

And all it got me was becoming the laughingstock of all Harbor Island.

"Driver, faster, please."

The driver stepped on the gas, and the car sped up over the slick road.

Right then, an out-of-control truck came barreling out of the intersection.

All I saw was a blinding flash of light, and then a violent impact.

My head slammed hard against the window, and blood instantly blurred my vision.

In the last moment before I lost consciousness—

If I could just die like this, wouldn't the pain finally stop?

I struggled for a long time in the endless darkness,

fighting desperately to open my eyes.

A harsh white light pierced my eyes, and it took me a long while to adjust before I could make out the hospital room.

Dad and Mom were gathered around the bed, Mom's eyes badly swollen.

My older brother stood off to the side, his eyes red.

"April, you're finally awake."

Mom threw herself over and gripped my hand tightly.

I opened my mouth, but my throat was too dry to make a sound.

The door to the room slammed open with a bang.

Bruce Sanchez shoved my brother aside and rushed to my bedside.

"April, don't scare me."

His tears fell scalding onto the back of my hand.

"I'll never go to her again. Let's get married right now, all right? I'd give you my life—just don't leave me."

I slowly drew my hand out of his grip, my eyes clear and indifferent.

"Excuse me," I said calmly, looking into his eyes, "who are you?"

Bruce Sanchez's whole body went rigid, his pupils shrinking sharply.