“Yes.”
“Then come to bed.”
I pushed myself to my feet, followed him wordlessly up the stairs and into bed, snuggling in beside him.
“Has it occurred to you,” Harrison asked as I was drifting off, “that Elyse might be exactly who she says she is? That she’s a great housekeeper who came to work for your father and they just happened to fall in love? That there was no nefarious plot to insinuate herself into your father’s life and cut you and your sister out?”
I thought about all that had happened since Elyse had come into our lives—how my initial infatuation had been replaced by doubt and eroded by lies. Was it possible I was wrong? That I’d been too quick to see things that weren’t there, assume motives that didn’t exist? Was it possible that Elyse genuinely loved my father? “It’s possible, I guess,” I had to concede.
“Good. Now get some sleep,” Harrison said.
“But I don’t think so.”
Harrison groaned, covering his head with his pillow to discourage any further attempts at conversation.
I flipped onto my side, began my silent recitation:A is for Annie; B is for Bernard; C is for Corinne; D is for Derek.
I shuddered. “E is for Elyse,” I said out loud.