Bound South

03 • Masks

This couldn't be happening.

I didn't want to be afraid anymore, but this whole situation had sailed way past scary, and straight into some eighteen hundred's arranged marriage.

I loved South, but if I let this family force me into marrying him, who knew what they'd make me do next? Dictate how many children we had? How we named them? I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, wanting to scream over the throbbing pain in my palm.

Had I become a marionette? Puppet strings pulled until South and I were staged in a way that best suited the Tenney name, and Les's secret business dealings.

I was right back to being fake. I wanted to be so much more than the Yacht Club girl, or the daughter of an Admiral and a doctor, or whatever else people thought I was.

I wanted to be the kind of girl who solved crimes and caught the bad guy. Last night, standing inside that musty speakeasy, I vowed to get back at Les Tenney and make him pay for all the horror he caused. But now, trapped inside this gilded cage, I didn't know if I could.

I needed... help.

Once Ji Woo and Les were gone, and the bedroom door was closed, I spun around, bare feet padding over cold wooden floors, as I made my way towards the pile of suitcases arranged neatly in the corner of the room.

"If you need something, I'll be more than happy to get it for you, Miss Isley," Agatha said in her firm yet kind voice.

I ignored her, intent on finding my cell phone. I needed to talk to my sister. She would know what to do. Lydie always knew what to do.

Despite the number of people following me, brandishing cups of steaming hot green tea and yellow measuring tapes, I'd never felt more alone. Angry tears were clinging to my lashes, and an ache was building in the back of my throat.

I pushed aside two rolling suitcases, searching for my small clutch.

Where the fuck was my purse?

A dull memory throbbed beside the pain in my heart and my hand, and I remembered stuffing it inside one of the suitcases last night—but couldn't remember which one. So, I sank onto my knees in frustration, angrily pulling on the first zipper I saw. Why was this so hard? Why was everything so damn difficult to do with shaking hands and a million thoughts racing through my mind?

I just needed to call Lydie.

The suitcase spilled open, and all the mementos I'd packed from the various cardboard boxes of my childhood tumbled onto the floor. Every secret note and picture I couldn't bear to part with laid bare.

I dug around fruitlessly, searching until my hands and breath stilled.

Oh god.

"Miss Isley?" asked one voice.