“Okay, we’re going out. You need to get up and away from the gloom in this room.”

I snort a little at her unintentional rhyme.

“You’re a poet and you didn’t even know it,” I say.

“Haha, get dressed. You have five minutes.” She shoves me toward my closet and then walks out.

“Five minutes!” she yells.

Four minutes and twenty-six seconds later, I’m walking out of my bedroom in another outfit. A black and white striped maxi skirt with a white t-shirt. Simple and comfy and still pretty.

“It’s about time,” she says, taking her hair down and then putting it up again in the exact same ponytail. Lo chronically plays with her hair. It’s annoying sometimes, but at least she isn’t a chronic masturbator.

“Okay, okay. Where to?” I say, because she’s definitely in charge here. I don’t have the energy to fight her like I normally do.

“Well, I’d love to take you to get a new vibrator, but something tells me you might object to that particular venture,” she says and I glare at her. I happen to have one I’m very happy with and not in the mood to browse a store that’s filled with rubber dicks.

“That’s what I thought. So. Shoes.” I love shoes, and so does Lo, so normally that would be a great outing. Today, not so much. Even a pair of fabulous pumps isn’t going to take my mind off Sylas.

“Fine,” I say with a sigh as Lo grabs my black leather jacket and purse and shoves me through my own door.

Two hours later, I have two new pairs of shoes and Lo has four. I’m not feeling any better, but being out is better than wallowing in my room alone, I suppose.

I can’t stop checking my phone to see if Sylas has called or texted, or if my dad has called or texted regarding him.

They still need to meet to discuss what’s going to happen from here, but Dad wanted to let Sylas cool down for a few days. Wise idea.

“What do you think?” Lo says, snapping my attention back to her as she tries on a pair of sky high heels in a brilliant royal blue. They make her already long legs look like they go on for days and I hate her a little for them. Lo has the type of body that can only be described as “glamazon.” She’ll never be “cute” or “petite,” unlike me.

“Fabulous,” I say, gesturing to them as she sticks a leg out and looks down at her foot.

“So I should get them, right? I mean, it would be a crime to deprive my feet of these shoes.”

“Absolutely,” I say, cracking a small smile. She’s about to try another pair on when I tell her my tattoo is hurting, and I want to go back home. She agrees, but not before she takes me out for a light dinner at a quiet and subdued bar.

“I know I’m going to regret this tomorrow, but it feels good right now,” she says, looking down at the numerous bags by her feet. Lo definitely doesn’t have the money to spend on all those pairs of shoes. No doubt she’ll be back to the stores tomorrow to return most of them.

“Hmm,” I say, a non-committal response.

“Come on, come out of your funk,” she says, reaching across the table to lightly smack my arm.

I don’t want to. I want to wrap myself in it like a blanket and never come out again.

“Lo, seriously. I’m not in the mood.” She searches my eyes and finally nods, backing off.

“I’m sorry, Saige. I know how twisted up you are over this guy.” I cringe. She hasn’t even said his name and I’m wincing.

“It’s stupid,” I say.

“No, it’s not. You really cared about him and I have to say I’m surprised because he definitely cares about you. Anyone could see that. His eyes lit up every time he looked at you.” Yeah, I’ll bet he practiced that one in the mirror so he could get it just right.

“Can we stop talking about this?” I say as she puts her hand up to ask our waiter for the check.

“Sure,” she says and pays for a plate of food I barely touched.

When I get back Lo gives me a hug, but leaves me alone.

I put on my new shoes and click my heels together, but that doesn’t do a whole lot of good.

My entire body aches, not just the tattoo. It’s almost that ache you get when you know you’re coming down with something.

And then I do something that is entirely stupid.

I call him.

Five

I’m shocked when he picks up and doesn’t let it go to voicemail, or that he hasn’t blocked my phone number.

“Hello?” he says, keeping his voice neutral. My heart speeds up at the sound of his voice.

“Hey, Sylas,” I say, and I sound weak and sad and whiny.

“Is there something I can do for you, Saige?” he says. He’s still trying to hurt me.

“I really want to talk to you. I keep trying, but you don’t seem to want to listen.”

He lets out a breath. “What would give you that impression?” The sarcasm drips from his tone, but it doesn’t bother me. I force myself to be strong. I am strong.

“Look. You can hang up right now. You can block my number and move to a different apartment, a different city, change your name and never see me again. But something tells me you’re not going to do that.” He doesn’t answer.

“Something tells me you’re not going to deny your sister the right to get to know me or her biological father. Your own father was a murderer and a disappointment. Your sister has the chance to have a relationship with a man who won’t do that to her. Someone who will care for her. And… I’d really like to get to know her.” Of course my voice breaks a little at the end. I can’t help it.

“I always wanted a sister,” I say. He breathes for what feels like eternity and I wish I could see him and know what this face looks like right now. Read his eyes. Then he sighs again.

“Well, you’re in luck because she wants to meet you too. I was going to call you and ask if you wanted to come with me when I visit on Saturday. I have no idea why, but she asked for you.” I nearly fall over. This is such a change from what he said just a day ago that it takes me a minute to speak. Sylas always surprises me.

“She does?” I need to hear him say it again.

His voice is warmer when he answers. “Yes. She does. And we’re going to have a chat about what to say and not to say to her when you do visit. Lizzy is special.”

“Fine. Fine. I know she’s special. Anyone who spends even a moment with her would see that,” I say, and I cringe at how eager my voice is. What changed his mind? What has he been doing in the past few hours that made him go from red to green?

“Okay then,” he says and I can’t stop the smile that spreads on my face. I’m going to see my sister.

“I’ll pick you up on Saturday at nine.” I start to thank him, but he hangs up.

After I get over my shock that Sylas is going to take me to see Lizzy, I call Dad.

“Hey, so Sylas just called and he’s bringing me to see Lizzy on Saturday. Did you know anything about this?” I say.

Dad is also shocked for a minute.

“No, I’ve heard nothing. What made him change his mind?”

“No idea. Absolutely none. But I’m going to go and see if that will help.”

“Good. Let me know how it goes.”

“I will.”

He pauses and I can feel there’s something else he wants to talk about.

“What is it?” I ask, cutting to the chase.

“I’m not sure if this is going to work.”

“Why not?” I say, taking my new shoes out of the boxes and adding them to the right shelf in my closet.

“Just a feeling.” I chew on my lip, thinking. Dad’s feelings are almost never wrong. He has better instincts than anyone I’ve ever met before.

“Tell me,” I say.

“He’s a wild card. Unpredictable. I know we’ve figured him out, but I still think he could surprise us.” He does still surprise me. All the time.