Growing up, while Mom was still alive and helped to keep a tight leash around Father's neck, I'd loved nothing more than coming back home to the family home at Nordstrom. Back home to her sweet-smelling buns and ginger tea. Back home to Father laughing, and Andrew behaving himself. But now, that felt like ages ago — the memories so faint, I couldn't even remember when last Father laughed, or if Mom's hair was blonde, or a pale ginger. Now, as we neared the property, Solana sat beside me in the car quietly, her trembling fingers the only thing that announced her tension. She looked stunning in the red, short dress I'd specifically chosen for her, her dark curls shiny, framing her beautiful face — a light make-up accentuating the almond shape of her emerald-green-colored eyes.
I took my left hand off the steering wheel and touched her knee as we pulled up in front of the security gate.
She stilled, startled, turning her eyes to me.
