She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I don’t think many people have been in this living arrangement before.”
We both look around the bare room. But it’s not really the space we’re feeling. It’s the people, the fame, the wealth.
When our eyes meet again, Daisy says, “We’re like unicorns here. Living out unique lives.” She stares off in thought. “Not a lot of people will ever understand what we go through or even care, and that’s partly why we’ve been drawing closer to each other, living together.” She hugs her legs. “I wasn’t always that close with Rose and Lily, but I really wanted to be.”
“You weren’t that close?”
And she goes on to tell me deeper things about her childhood, about being the sister left behind, and Daisy asks me more about my life in Maine.
We talk for hours and hours, and we forget about paint colors. It’s a tomorrow project. Today, I just really like sharing her company. And I know I’m not going to regret moving in.
may
26
willow moore
Internal Freak-Out Status: I’m on a vacation with the Calloway sisters and their men.
Rose asked if I’d like to join their trip to the lake house.
Location: top-secret. No one online knows the destination. It’s supposed to be a peaceful oasis away from the paparazzi. The fact that they’re letting me in on this secret is a huge honor that I want to safekeep and protect.
The drive has been long. The kind that needs many pitstops and even driver rotations. Luckily, no has asked me to man the wheel. Not that I’m a bad driver. But both Jane Cobalt and Maximoff Hale are situated in car seats in the back, Connor sitting between the kids.
My nervous energy will most likely skyrocket with the responsibility of protecting the almost-one-year-old babies.
Right now, all that responsibility rests in Lily’s hands, but she’s undoubtably been the best driver so far. Her eyes barely even flit to the passenger seat where Rose texts on her phone.
“Is that Mom again?” Lily asks her sister.
Silence eats the car, and I wonder if whatever text Rose received is important. Probably. Very important people are in this vehicle. Like my brother. Lo sits next to me in one of the middle seats, an aisle between our chairs.
He gazes out the window, probably looking for the other car. Ryke and Daisy drove separately. The whole process of even leaving the neighborhood took security vehicles, diversions with an assist from bodyguards, and a lot of work before we even made it on our route.
It reminds me how secretive this trip really is.
I glance down at my cell, checking the ETA. We still have hours left. I wish I could text Garrison, but he handed me his cellphone this morning. It’s currently stashed away in my backpack, squeezed between my shoes.
My stomach has been in a series of knots this entire car ride.
I may have…smuggled someone into this Escalade’s trunk.
But he’s blindfolded. (His suggestion.) He has no idea where we’re headed, and he can’t see a thing. I trust Garrison not to spill the location, but no one else in the car will trust him.
I know the blindfold might not help, but it’s a last-ditch effort in case everything goes wrong and he’s caught.
I haven’t even been living with them long and I’m already doing something that could threaten their trust in me. My stomach tosses and turns, causing worse nausea than a normal bout of car sickness.
The alternative was worse. Leaving Garrison alone in Philly with nowhere to go. Lily installed extra security cameras at Superheroes & Scones, so Garrison can’t sleep there anymore. If I don’t help him, he’ll have to return home where he could run into his brothers again. That’s the last place I want him to be.
I’m his only friend.
Friends are supposed to smuggle each other in trunks.
That’s just how it works, right?
Before I zipped him up in the duffel bag, I handed him a water bottle and a banana. He has nourishment and fluids. Still…
I’m freaking out a little bit.
It’s impossible not to worry. He’s in a duffel bag right now. Bumping along with the Escalade. And since his phone is in my backpack, Garrison has no way to communicate with me.
It’s dangerous.
When we left this morning, I even shoved his cell back into his chest, knowing how risky this could be. What if he has heat stroke? What if he doesn’t get enough air? He could die inside luggage and I’m just sitting here with zero clue.
I told all of these things to Garrison.
But he just looked me in the eye and said, “You have to take my phone, Willow. Because if we get caught, you’ll be in worse shit with your family if they know I had it.” They’ll think he snitched to someone about the lake house’s location.