Elite Fraud

Chapter 28: Christmas Must Be Tonight

"Don't . . ." I say, biting back my shock. She promised not to say anything if I kept to myself after the ball. Does she know about all the things I dabbled with since then? I study her expression, but she only smirks with her eyes.

"Oh, don't worry. You're safe. For now," she adds, and shrugs a shoulder. "You did keep your promise, right?" She tries to sound confident and assured, but it doesn't work. There is a hint of underlying worry. Yvonne is more worried about this than she lets on. She can threaten me all she wants, but she knows what I am capable of.

Now, it's my turn to hide a smirk. The damage's already been done, and there is nothing anyone can do about it. Detective Loughty and his team will be at the scene when the exchange happens, and David will be put behind bars once and for all.

"Of course," I say.

I start to turn back to the piles of carton on the table, but Yvonne grabs my arm and pulls me to the back of the banners where we stand out of everyone's vision. I pull my arm out of her grasp. "What do you want?"

"I just want to remind you that if I even find out that you overstepped anywhere, I will end you," she threatens menacingly.

"I told you I didn't," I say, staring into her sharp, unflinching eyes. "And why do you even care so much?"

"That doesn't concern you," she spits. "Stick to your place, Harlem Girl. Don't forget where you're from."

She steps back and fixes her fur collar that's dotted with snow, her light hair snapping and whipping in the wind. I want to silently watch her walk away and let her think she has won this—backing down is the best thing I can do right now.

But I can't stop myself from saying the dangerous words out loud. "You don't have to worry about where I'm from, Sutton," I say, and tilt my head. "At the end of the day, I know who I'm coming home to. But what about you?" I pause. "How does it feel to spend every second of the day worried about your and Atlas's relationship and how it determines whether or not you have a trust fund?"

She stares back at me with half-fluttering blinks and a pinched mouth, still registering my words. A cloud forms when she shakily takes a breath. "Who—how do you know this?"

I smile. "Only a fool wouldn't catch on to it. And I'm a lot of things, but a fool is not one of them," I say. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go back to feeding these people. I can't forget where I come from."

I sidestep her and walk through the thin layer of snow. There may be consequences I will have to face after what I've just done, but I am strangely calm. My head is as numb as the tips of my cold fingertips. And I'm just waiting for the inevitable crash that is coming soon. I don't know what it is, but I know that it's coming, and I've become acceptant of it.

"Sage," Yvonne says hesitantly. I've never heard her say my name so softly. I pause in my steps and let her speak. "Please. You don't understand what it all means to me, what's on the line here."

I stare at the long tables where everyone stands. Theo's back is given to me as he converses with a woman holding her very pregnant stomach. Once she takes the food with a grateful smile, I glimpse his handsome profile as he cranes his head and looks around the crowd, searching for someone. My heart twinges with warmth when I realize that he is looking for me.

"Believe me, Yvonne," I finally say. "I do understand. I know what's at risk here."

༺༻

Back at the charity set up, I take my place next to Theo and open up a new carton. It's the last one in my pile, and after looking around, I realize that everyone is almost finished. But unfortunately, the vans of food we brought are not enough for the lines of people in front of us.

"Where were you?" Theo asks.

"Yvonne wanted to have a little chat with me," I reply dryly.

He nods and gestures for me to elaborate, but Yvonne is already walking back to the tables. She looks perfectly composed again when she stands next to me as if nothing just happened. I look back to Theo and shrug: now's not the time to explain it. I go back to the task at hand.

Halfway into my box, the person who takes the next container grips my hands tightly. I pull back in shock and look up. But the woman has a black scarf covering her face, leaving only her eyes visible. She squints at me through hardened eyes, and I'm hit with a weird sense of familiarity. I've stared into those eyes before

"Do I know you?" I ask hesitantly. Maybe I'm imagining this familiarity.

"What brings ya here with these lot?" she asks accusingly. I've definitely seen those eyes and heard this husky voice before.

They're the same eyes that stared distantly in her home, telling a story I knew too well. "Mrs. Miles," I say in a low voice, careful not to let Yvonne listen

"You're a traitor," she grunts and shakes her head. "You have the gal to be standing here with them people."

I want to explain, but I am too close to Yvonne. My lips part and close like a fish, my voice stuck in my throat.

She lifts her scarf and spits at the ground. "A disgusting traitor. And to think I let ya in my home." I can see the accusation and pain in her eyes when she looks at me. Then, she speaks the last words that dagger my heart. "You're just like the rest of them."