I care about her, but it’s not that simple. Nothing is with her. My feelings for her run deeper than simply caring for the sister of my best friend. These are feelings I should not have. I want her in ways I cannot want her.

Because every time I touch her, I lose a little more of myself to the darkness inside me. I should give her up, but I can’t. The thought of another man touching her, having her, brings about a violence inside me that burns so fucking hot its ferociousness scares even me.

We are what we are, all of us. No matter how we try to hide beneath what we show the world. And maybe it’s just a matter of time until we give in to the depravity of our true selves.

I arrive home in the afternoon on the day Mercedes is having her friends over for high tea. I wasn’t planning to return to the house, but Ezra called and insisted it was time to visit with my brother, and I decided perhaps I should go. I will need to deal with him at some point, and now is as good a time as any. So I’ve come to pack. At least I can use the excuse that she’ll be busy with her friends to not see her. It’s cowardice, I know, but I can’t trust myself around her.

I enter through the back door, greet Lois briefly in the kitchen, and let her know I’ll be out of town for the next two nights.

“You should say hello to Mercedes and her friends. They’re having tea. That way, you can let her know so she’s not disappointed.”

I make a point of checking the time. “I’ll miss my flight.”

“Judge—”

“She won’t be disappointed, Lois. She’ll be happy.”

“If you say so, Judge.” She returns to the work of preparing finger sandwiches.

I don’t overthink it. Instead, I walk quickly past the room they’re in, ignoring their laughter, and head upstairs to my bedroom, where I take a small bag out of my closet and set it on the bed, which hasn’t yet been made since Mercedes is sleeping in longer these days. I begin the task of packing the things I need. I’m just zipping the duffel when I see Mercedes’s phone tossed on the bed.