But what if it’s not a good sign? What if she’s coming back to say goodbye? What if she’s going home afterward because of some horrific life-threatening illness?

I move back to the window seat and tuck my legs under me, determined to settle in for the duration of this nail-biting wait. The last of the sun’s rays cast an amber glow over the water, causing the shadows in the room to deepen. I don’t bother turning on a lamp.

When Landon enters sometime later, Elise in tow, he finds me fretting in the dark. Switching on a light, he lets the door shut with an anticlimactic click.

As if this moment isn’t one I’ve been waiting for all day.

I stand, opening my arms to Elise, and she rushes into them. “Are you okay?” I squeeze her for several long moments before pulling back to inspect her. “Faye said you’ve been ill, but she wouldn’t tell me anything else. I’ve been going crazy with worry.”

Elise leads me to the group of couches in the middle of the room. The French doors still stand open, and a chilly breeze drops the temperature inside by several degrees. Landon shuts out the cold before settling onto the couch across from us, Elise taking the cushion by my side.

“I’m sorry for the secrecy,” she says, playing with the ends of her short blond hair. “I wanted you to hear it from me.” Tears collect in her big blue eyes, and I take her hand in mine, panic building in my chest.

“I’m here,” I choke. “Whatever it is, I’m here.”

“While you were with Mr. Bordeaux—” Her voice breaks, emotion clogging her throat. “Remember how I was seeing Jerome?”

“I remember.” Between my two ladies, Elise was the most excited to come to Zodiac Island. A romantic to the core, she’d had hope in her eyes and innocent dreams in her heart. I used to be that innocent.

Before Liam and his tantalizing touch.

Before Mr. Bordeaux and his cruel conditioning.

Before Sebastian introduced me to the kind of soul-consuming lust I thought only existed in fiction.

“What happened, Elise?”

“Jerome, he…he…” Tears spill over her cheeks, and the rest of her words come out garbled, strangled by pain.

A cold fist of horror grips my heart. “Elise, he what?” Though I utter the question, deep down I know the answer. Her face is awash with trauma, her eyes void of the innocence that once lived there.

“He raped me.” She exhales a breath, and I wonder if that’s the first time she’s had the courage to use that word.