4

Phoebe

I shouldn’t have been so surprised that he lived in a veritable mansion after seeing his car—the same one that struck me—but I had to struggle not to gape like a moron. I’d seen things like this on TV, but never in real life. A lot of the furnishings were like what people I knew bought, but I bet the rug in the foyer wasn’t fifteen dollars from the used shop like mine was.

“Let me show you to a room, Phoebe.”

I grunted. I was still annoyed at the way he’d taken over, and how he and Dr. Kormin had maneuvered me into this situation. I didn’t want to submit to anyone’s highhandedness, but I was tired, and I could spare a few hours to sleep before having to get to Berkshire in the morning.

I followed him up a grand circular staircase. I discreetly tapped my heel against one of the steps, deciding it was probably real white marble. I didn’t know for sure though. It wasn’t like my education had included such details. “Where are you planning to dump me now that you’ve dragged me home?