My stomach sinks.

“About six months after the incident at that camp, I got a phone call at work from Kyle”—my father spits his name out—“demanding a hundred thousand dollars—”

“It wasn’t like that!” Kyle yells, and I startle. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him lose his temper.

“How was it, then?” my father roars back. “What do you call trying to pin a brain-damaged boy’s own stupidity on my daughter?”

“What?” A cold feeling seizes my insides. “Brain-damaged boy? You told me he was going to be okay!”

Dad squeezes his eyes shut, maybe to hide the guilt of his lie. Another lie.

It’s Kyle who answers, his voice pained. “Eric’s not okay, Piper. They thought he’d pull through at first, but then his brain swelled more and the doctors couldn’t get a handle on it. His family didn’t have much money. When all the medical bills and the air ambulance bill started piling on, they were going to lose their house. I gave them what I could, but I didn’t have nearly enough.” He’s rambling through his words now, as if racing to get them out. “I figured out who your dad was. I knew he’d have the money. So I phoned him one day and I asked him to help Eric’s family—”

“By reminding me that it was Piper who bought all the alcohol—”

“Because I knew she felt guilty! Just like I did! I knew she’d want you to help Eric if she knew how bad it was!”

“You think any of that would have happened if you hadn’t been there? It’s because of you that my daughter got into that mess! She has nothing to feel guilty for!” My dad grits his teeth, his face red. “And yet, when I told you to go to hell, you threatened to find Piper and tell her about our deal unless I sent more money. That is the very definition of extortion!”

Kyle bows his head. “Because I knew it was nothing to you and that you’d pay, just to keep me away from her.”

“Says the son of a man who put six elderly people in the poorhouse,” my dad throws back. “Robbing people of their money’s in your blood. You can’t help yourself.”

Kyle flinches as if slapped.

Meanwhile, my knees wobble, feeling ready to buckle from my shock. That the two of them were in contact, that this was all going on behind my back. That neither of them told me about Eric.

That Kyle has been keeping this from me even now. “I can’t believe this is happening.” My stomach churns as I look to my mother. “Did you know about this?”

She shakes her head, her expression dazed.

“I knew you would want to help Eric, Piper.” Kyle pleads with his eyes. He reaches for me, but I step away.

“Why did you come to Lennox?”

“You know why.”

“I thought I did, but now . . . Do you want more money? Is that it?”

His jaw tenses. “I told you, I don’t want your money.”

“You’ve told me a lot of things.” But never the whole truth.

“Get the hell away from my daughter, before I call the police.” My dad’s voice is icy calm now.

Kyle’s steady gaze stays on me. “Is that what you want, Piper?”

No, but I want what I can’t seem to have. I harden my heart. “I think that would be best. Go ahead and take the taxi home. To your home.”

Kyle squeezes his eyes shut a moment, his chest heaving with a deep sigh. When they open, they’re full of pain.

A lump flares in my throat. “You should put in an immediate building transfer with Rikell,” I manage to choke out.

“Don’t you dare show up tomorr—”

“Dad!” I bark, throwing him a warning look. “Talk to Gus, Kyle. I’m sure he can help make it happen swiftly.”

I hold my breath as Kyle nods and slowly backs away. “For whatever it’s worth . . . if you need my statement about Tripp Porter’s phone conversation, Gus will know where to find me.” He moves toward the taxi, his head down, his shoulders slouched. Looking . . . broken.

“Was all this really worth it?” I call out, my voice shaky. From the second he applied for a job in my building to the second I reached for my father’s doorbell—and every second in between—he knew that once I found out about this, we would be done.

“To get even one more day with you?” He pauses at the open door of the cab and smiles sadly, those golden eyes the color of burnt caramel that entrapped me so many years ago settling on me now. “It was worth everything to me.” Memory takes over and I see the mischievous, wild boy just about to get into his beat-up Pinto. Then that memory is gone and Kyle is climbing into the backseat of the taxi.

My tears stream freely as I watch the taillights disappear down the street.

“I’m going to phone Rikell and—”

“Oh, shut up, Kieran,” my mother snaps, pulling me into her arms and leading me into the house.

“How satisfying is this for you?” Mark leans next to me against the glass wall to my office as we watch Tripp being escorted down executive lane by a tall, bald security guard, a box of trophies and trinkets and other personal belongings in his arms.

“Not as satisfying as I was expecting it to be, believe it or not.” I let my father confront Tripp alone; he may have made my life hell, but it’s my father he has truly betrayed.

Tripp didn’t even bother to deny it, which made the question of legality around the search of his phone records a moot point.

“Do you think he’s done it before?” Mark asks.

That’s a million-dollar question. “Who knows. But Gary Jameson would never pay him.” He has far too much integrity. And we almost burned that relationship because of Tripp.

“Piper, a minute.” My dad, who was watching Tripp’s walk of shame as well, heads back into his office.

Mark takes his leave. “Renée and I are going to grab lunch. You want me to bring you anything?”

“No. Thanks, though.” I don’t remember when I last ate. Late yesterday afternoon, I guess. Before my world imploded because of Kyle—again.

I stare at my father’s office door a long moment, deciding if I want to answer his summons. After Kyle left my father’s house last night, I fell apart on my mother’s shoulder—crying harder than I have in thirteen years, since the first time Kyle broke my heart. My dad disappeared into another room and didn’t come out again. I left as soon as I could gather my composure to call a cab.

I haven’t spoken to my father since. I don’t think I have it in me to do so now.

Not when I’m still this angry, and hurt.

Not when I feel this deceived.

Marching into my office, I shut down my computer, collect my purse and phone, and stroll out.

“Piper.” I hear my name when I’m almost to the elevator. I ignore it and keep going, only turning back once I’ve pressed the button, long enough to see my father standing at his office door, to meet his steely gaze with my own, before I step inside and am gone.

“I called every listing for Vetter in Erie, Pennsylvania, but I couldn’t find Eric or his family.” Ashley slumps in the chair beside me on our newly decorated rooftop patio. I parked myself in the chaise longue eight hours ago upon my escape from the office and haven’t moved, save for a trip to the bathroom. And, while my mood is more suited to hiding under blankets inside during a torrential downpour than lounging in a shady alcove of a rooftop patio on a hot summer’s day, I’ll admit I’ve found an odd sense of peace out here, listening to the faint and frequent horn blasts and ambulance sirens coming from King Street and beyond, and Elton’s motor-like purr as he sits beside me, oddly content as I scratch behind his ears. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he knew I needed comfort. And cared.