I haven’t actually been considering it. Not long-term, anyway. But now that I’ve said it, the idea flourishes in my mind. I could still work as an actor out of Eben Cape. Not everyone has to live in LA. There are such things as private jets and cell phones. It would mean becoming what I swore I’d never be—one of those people who comes home after high school and never leaves.

But so what? Beau is in Eben Cape. And Jane. Emily and Paige. The people that I care about are in Maine. I should be there, too. “What do you think about that?”

Emily doesn’t say anything.

She’s fallen asleep.

Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jane Mendoza

Our houses share the cliffside, as well as the single road that winds down. At the bottom of our mountain there are two mailboxes. A traditional ornate mailbox belongs to the Coach House. And the more modern mailbox with a metal frame and a herringbone door is ours.

I always dreamed of having my own house. Someday.

But I never anticipated the satisfaction I’d get from seeing mail arrive. Not a small metal box in an apartment complex. Not to someone else’s house where I’m the nanny.

Mail coming to my house.

I walk down the steep road in my flip-flops. Maine weather is strange. I’ve grown so accustomed to the cold, rainy days. Summer heats the cliffside to temperatures that rival Houston.

Sweat coats my arms and upper lip by the time I reach the bottom. There’s a black SUV waiting in case I need to go anywhere. And a guard standing duty.

He gives me a professional nod. Brian. That’s his name. “Ma’am.”

“Good morning,” I say with a small wave.

Secretly I find it amusing that the security guards all call me ma’am when they’re twice my age. I never really understood why some women dislike being called that. Because it makes them feel old? I’ve wanted to be old for years. Old means having power over your own life. Old means not living in foster homes, at the mercy of abusive men. It’s a relief to be old enough to be called ma’am.

I will just ignore the fact that he also calls Paige ma’am.

Technically I could have called and had him bring the mail. It’s part of their protection services. They’ll even pick up groceries and things from the drugstore. Keeping me indoors is part of the safety plan. Unfortunately it’s also stifling. So I take my daily walk to breathe fresh air.

And as a bonus, I get to check for mail from colleges.

I’ve heard back from half the schools so far. Mostly acceptances. A few rejections.

No word from Mainland College.

And that’s where I want to go, I’ve already decided.