“It’s okay, Ivy. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just had overheard Jackson say something to someone the other day. I thought you knew. Please don’t say anything. I don’t want Jackson to know I know.”

I draw back. “Of course not. Is he okay at least? My dad?”

“I think so. Nothing bad happened or anything. Haven’t you been to see him?”

I shake my head, my mind elsewhere now. My chest feeling constricted. The memory of last night in his office, him inside me, the things I felt and the knowledge that it wasn’t enough and that it wouldn’t be enough. And that it would break me.

Santiago isn’t the man I make him out to be. The man I want him to be. He’s had an agenda since the first day, and he hasn’t made a secret of it. If my heart breaks, it’s my own fault.

29

Ivy

Santiago doesn’t return home that night or the next, and he doesn’t call either. Or if he does, it’s not to talk to me.

And all the while, all I can do is make up scenarios to try to understand why he would take over my father’s care. What it means. And why he hasn’t told me. I feel isolated and alone, and when I ask if I can at least call my sister, Antonia only gives me a pitying look and tells me I must ask Santiago.

It’s an infuriating circle because I can’t ask him if I don’t have any way to talk to him.

I want to trust him. I know it will take time for us to trust each other, but what Colette told me and then this, his absence, combined with my isolation from my family, from anyone outside these walls, it makes it hard.

By the third night, I’m worked up and feeling more angry than anything else. At least anger is better. Anger means I’ll fight, not roll over and let him plow over me.

When the staff have all gone to bed, I make my way down to his office. It’s locked again. I guess Antonia has a key. But I know another way in, and I go through the library to that secret entrance. I’m not even really hiding anymore. Or at least I tell myself that. I need to know what’s going on with my dad. How could Abel have approved Santiago taking over his care? And why hasn’t Santiago told me? Why hide it from me?

His office is dark apart from the monitors, and it’s been cleaned since I was last here. I set the notebook with the sketches on his desk and sit in his chair. If I concentrate, when I inhale, I swear I can smell his aftershave.