Own Me (The Wolf Hotel, #5)(27)

“If you had any idea the things that have been going on in my life lately, you might understand why I jumped to such a conclusion.”

“Violet, why don’t you come and sit down.” Gayle gestures toward the empty wing chair.

But Violet remains where she is, her eyes welling. “Did you two know?” At least her tone with her grandparents is less hostile. “Did you know what Mom did? He went to Hartley.” She throws a hand toward Henry. “He was her student!”

Gayle flinches. “We didn’t know. She didn’t tell us.”

“But you should have before you ran off to go find him,” Howard scolds gently.

“Which is one of the reasons I’m here. Do you have any idea the kinds of things that happen to young girls traveling alone in a city that size? Girls who look like you?” Henry steps forward, his tone full of reproach.

“I’m not stupid!” she yells back.

“It has nothing to do with being stupid. Though I wouldn’t call it a smart decision.”

“Where did you stay all night, Violet?” Gayle asks.

Violet opens her mouth and pauses, her eyes falling to the coffee cup in her hand. “A twenty-four-hour diner near the train station. I was fine. It was safe. Mom and I used to go there.”

I cock my head to try to read the cup. It has a cute red and blue monster logo that I’ve never seen before, but there’s a New York City address listed along the cup’s seam.

“You can’t be lying to your grandparents about where you are and taking trains into Manhattan whenever you feel like it,” Henry says, his tone sharp.

“Don’t pretend you care!” she erupts, tears running freely. “I just wanted you to know that I existed. Now you can leave. We don’t want you here.” She brushes her cheeks with a furious stroke of her hand. “And I do know what’s been going on in your life. I read all about it. Your psycho brother murdered your father because your father was sleeping with his twenty-something-year-old fiancée? As if I want to be a part of that family.”

Henry’s teeth grind. “You can’t trust what you read in the media.”

“Really? So you’re not marrying your twenty-one-year-old assistant after meeting her a few months ago?”

“Ex-assistant,” I mutter, my cheeks flushing. As if it matters.

“Your fiancée is only six years older than your daughter. Did you do the math on that, huh? The reporters are gonna love that.”

Henry’s nostrils flare. “Have you told anyone about me? Friends, teachers, anyone?” he pushes, his tone urgent.

“About your dirty little secret?” Her face pinches with fury. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? That’s all you care about. Your reputation.”

Henry’s chest rises with a deep breath. “My reputation won’t be the one to suffer, Violet. What do you think the media will say about your mother if this story gets out?”

Fear sparks in Violet’s eyes. She’s been so focused on finding out who her father was, she probably didn’t give much thought to that question until now. “She’s gone, so it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I’ve lived in the public eye my entire life, and believe me, it will matter to you and to your grandparents, the things they’ll say about her. They will turn every memory of your mother upside down, invade her privacy in search of more dirt. People you thought you could trust will sell lies about her and you. Within hours of finding out, that cul-de-sac will be filled with vans and cameras.” He casts a hand toward the bay window and the street beyond it. “You won’t be able to leave this place without cameras shoved in your face. It’ll be a nightmare for you and your grandparents. And the things your neighbors and friends will say about Audrey?” Henry’s eyebrows are halfway up his forehead in warning.

If he’s trying to scare her, I think he’s succeeded. Even I’m holding my breath.

Violet’s throat bobs with a hard swallow. “I haven’t told anyone—”

“Good. Don’t.”

“I won’t!” Fresh tears spill. “You’re just the sperm donor. I don’t want you in my life. I hate you!” The last words are delivered in a shriek as she storms off down the hall. A moment later, a door slams.

Henry hangs his head.

“That went well.” Howard lifts his glasses to rub his eyes.

Gayle takes a step in the direction her granddaughter went, then stalls, as if reconsidering. “Audrey used to lock herself in her room for hours too.”

“Just give her time,” I say gently. I have no clue how to parent anyone, but it’s not too hard to put myself in a fifteen-year-old’s shoes. I was that age not that long ago. “This is a lot to handle. She’s exhausted. She wasn’t expecting to see us here. Let her shower and sleep, and process.”

“The funeral is tomorrow. She’s been dreading having to put on a brave face, but she hates crying in public.” Gayle blinks back threatening tears, which makes me think Violet’s not the only one dreading the day.

“We didn’t come here to disrupt your lives, especially not while you’re grieving.” Henry gestures, beckoning me to the door.

Howard pulls himself from his seat. “We appreciate you coming all the way here and checking on Violet.”