I was haunted by her implication that my parents had ditched me. It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought about it before or confronted them with the same charge, especially during my first year in hiding. I’d tried to persuade them to take me with them, even after a couple of years had passed. One especially dreary winter in Seattle, when Kar Yee was busy marrying her fake husband to get her citizenship, my mental health went south. I’d already linked myself to Priya at that point, and sent the guardian to ask my parents to call me.

It took them three days to respond. The longest three days of my life. I locked myself in my room and did every spell I could find to draw them to me. After two days, I dosed myself with a medicinal elixir and slept on my closet floor. By the time they called, I was weak from hunger and hallucinating from the medicinal. I remember sobbing on the phone, begging them to come to get me. My mom spent a couple of hours talking me down, flew from France that night and stayed with me for several wonderful days. I missed all my classes and had to repeat one of them the following semester, but it was worth it.

That was the last really bad time for me. Apart from the occasional bout of self-pity, I had moved past all that long ago. It made me mad that Riley Cooper was able to dig it back up, so I did my best to squelch any lingering feelings of abandonment.

My thoughts floated back to another subject I was trying to avoid, and I wondered how Jupe was doing. It crossed my mind that I could send a servitor to check on him, but if Lon ever found out … ugh. No thanks. I glanced at my cell. No calls. I stupidly dialed Tambuku to double-check that I had service, then chastised myself for being desperate and put it back down. I lay down on the sofa on my side, staring at it, trying to will it to ring.

I guess that’s why I never heard the door open and close.

“Hey.”

I yelped. Lon was standing by the coffee table.

“God …” I put my hand over my jackhammering heart and quickly sat up.

As the surprise wore off, I realized I had no idea what to say, so I remained quiet. His gaze dropped to the row of Riley’s items on the table. He set down a book he’d brought and picked up her keys. “You still have the girl?” he asked.

“In the basement.”

One brow rose in question.

“I’m treating her humanely.”

He didn’t reply. Just tossed the keys back on the table and crossed his arms over his chest.

“How is he?” I asked, embarrassed that I couldn’t bring myself to say Jupe’s name.

“A friend healed his hand. The breaks in his arm were too big, so he’s in a cast.”

“Is he in a lot of pain?” I couldn’t look at him, so I just stared at the floor. My hands gripped the edge of the sofa.

Lon snorted, sounding just like Jupe. “He’s high as a kite on pain pills and glad to be missing school for the rest of the week.”

I tried to laugh, but it got distorted by a sudden surge of emotion. Don’t you dare cry, I thought.

Lon pushed Riley’s things to the side and sat down on the coffee table facing me, his legs surrounding mine. He leaned forward until his face was only a few inches away. He smelled like valrivia smoke. “Listen up,” he said, “because I don’t say this often.”

I stiffened, drawing back, unsure of his intentions. He put his hand on my forearm to stop me. I shook it off. “What?”

“I overreacted,” he said.

It took several moments for his words to register.

“Look—” he started.

“I understand.” I raised my voice to drown out his explanation. “I understand you being scared and upset about Jupe—”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. I may not be a parent—”

“Yeah, you’re not a parent, that’s right.”

Anger flared inside my chest. “Don’t give me some bullshit about how I can’t understand because I didn’t give birth to him, because even I know that you don’t have to do that to care about someone.”

“Will you calm down and let me talk for a second?” Lon said in exasperation. “I’m trying to apologize.”

I pressed my lips together.

“Thank you,” he said crossly.

I waited for several moments while he collected his thoughts.

“When I said that you don’t understand, I meant that you don’t understand why I reacted like I did. Hell, I didn’t understand it.” He dropped his eyes. “It was Jupe who pointed out some things. How I was getting you confused with Yvonne.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“You aren’t like his mother,” he clarified, “but I was reacting to you the same way. It’s just that …” He squinted his eyes and creased his brow, engaged in some inner battle to find the right words. “Yvonne put Jupe in danger a couple of times when I was away on shoots. When he was four, she left him at someone’s house, some guy she was screwing. A stranger. She took Jupe with her, and that’s one thing, but then she forgot him—her own child.”

Well, shit. I really didn’t know what to say to that. He was close enough to sense my feelings, which was probably helpful for once; let him figure it out.

“That was neglect,” he continued, “and it was her fault. What you did wasn’t the same. You didn’t know that girl could track you that way. I didn’t either, frankly, and that led me to my second realization.”