Page 130 of Wicked Promises (Fallen Royals 3)
Caleb squints. “Did they, now?”
“She drives fast,” Hanna tells him. “But she lets me sit in the front seat, and I like to ride with my hand out the window.”
Maybe he’s remembering that I don’t know how to drive, because he says nothing. He barely even looks at Claire, and her stare is hot enough to melt plastic.
“So, to what do we owe this visit?” I ask her, slightly moving so I break her line of sight.
She’s always been boy obsessed, but she can’t be obsessed with this one.
She blinks, like she was dozing, and grins at me. “Well, we were out for ice cream and decided to check in on you. Hanna got an A on her final project in math.” She makes a show of looking around the room. “I’d say I like what you’ve done with the place, but…”
“It was time for a change,” I lie. “This is just the beginning stages of me making this place feel like home.”
“Oh?” She ventures farther in, touching a little clay pot Hanna had made me last year. It holds a few beads, an earring—lost things.
Forgotten things.
So they wouldn’t be misplaced anymore.
I almost cried when she gave it to me, because I know she meant me. I was the lost and forgotten thing. And so was she. And so was Claire.
We’re not lost anymore, I almost say. It’s on the tip of my tongue.
“I’m thinking of painting it blue.”
She picks up the canvas. “You’ve been working on this forever. Are you going to finish it?”
“You should paint it orange!” Hanna says, throwing herself onto the bed next to Caleb. She scoots all the way back, until she can lean against the wall. “Orange is my favorite color.”
“Silly girl,” Claire murmurs. “An orange room would practically glow when the sun rose.”
“Exactly.”
“Is your room decorated in orange?” I ask Hanna.
“Yeah, orange and pink. The best combination!” She bites her lip. “It’s nice when the rest of the house is creepy.”
“It’s not creepy,” Claire says. “It’s just old and big.”
I ruffle Hanna’s hair. “I’m sure it’ll feel like home soon enough.”
“Do you go back to school before the holiday?” Claire asks me. “If I were you, I’d push for all the time off I could.”
Caleb tilts his head. “Because of the accident?”
She ignores him. “Did you know we found out about your kidnapping on the news? The freaking news, Margo!”
I wince. “I’m sorry. It was…”
“Traumatic,” Caleb finishes. “And she shouldn’t have to tell everyone about it.”
She flinches, then rushes to my side. “I’m sorry.” She picks up my hands, squeezing. “God, I didn’t mean it like that. It was just surprise… and worry.”
“You could’ve called,” Caleb said. “Instead of…” Barging in here and interrupting our kiss? That’s where it sounds like he’s taking this conversation.
I shake my head. “I should’ve reached out.”
Claire pats my cheek. “I forgive you.”