The thought of my brother brings me back to my conversation with Mercedes this morning. She isn’t going to drop her questions. And she has a point. I want to know about her scars. She wants to know about mine. Except she can’t know about this one. Ever. Not she. Not Santiago. Not anyone.

What do I want with my brother? What would I do if he came home?

I take a deep breath in and push the thought of Theron aside. He’s too much of a coward to face me. Because only a coward would stab a man in the back.

I get up, pack my things, and put my jacket on. I want to go home. And there’s only one reason for it. My little monster.

I’m not in my study at home twenty minutes before I hear a knock on my door, and Miriam enters, looking irritated.

“Miriam, how can I help you?” What did the little monster do now? The thought is amusing, actually. Mercedes will find every button to push with this woman. And part of me can’t blame her. Miriam used to work for my mother, but she moved to the house a few months ago. I wonder if that’s where my mother learned about Mercedes. If that’s where the plaything comment came in.

“Sir, if I’m supposed to be in charge of Ms. De La Rosa, you need to tell Lois that she is to do as I say.”

“Do as you say?” I raise both eyebrows.

She clears her throat, realizing her mistake, but collects herself quickly. “It’s just those dogs are still in her room!” She doesn’t like the dogs. And they don’t like her.

“Well, I did give my permission. That’s on me, Miriam.”

“I’m certain she fed them her food.”

“Mmm. I’m certain you’re right.” Pestilence would scarf down old bacon in a heartbeat. I guess they all would. “I’m sure she’s hungry. I’d better go see to her.”

“Well, that’s the thing. Lois sent up food! A banquet! All her favorites.”

It takes all I have to keep my mouth in a displeased flat line, although I find this so amusing. So typical for Mercedes, my spoiled little monster. My charming little monster. When she wants to be, that is. And she has charmed Lois.

“I’ll discuss it with her. Let’s remember this isn’t a prison. She won’t be fed bread and water.” I walk her to the door. “And I assure you you’re in charge of my houseguest. Why don’t you take the night off? Go on.”

“Sir, I don’t need the night off.”

“Take it anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Bright and early. Good night, Miriam.”

I leave her in the hallway and head upstairs, smiling as I go.