Chapter 10
Elida slept in the guest room. She wore one of Abraham's old shirts because her clothes were still wet.
The next morning, the sun was shining. A cruel joke.
She walked down the grand staircase.
The living room was full of people. Lawyers. Wedding planners. And her father, looking furious.
He looked up. He saw her in Abraham's shirt.
His face went purple.
"What is she doing here?" he shrieked.
Abraham rolled into the room. He looked refreshed. "Elida is my medical consultant. She's monitoring my condition leading up to the ceremony."
"In your shirt?"
"My clothes were wet," she said, descending the stairs. "It's strictly professional."
Her father glared at her, but the lead lawyer cleared his throat.
"Mr. Adkins, we have a problem. A rather significant one."
Her father sat down, smoothing his tie. "What now?"
"Jenna is gone," the lawyer said flatly.
Her father blinked. "What do you mean, gone?"
"Her room is empty. Her bags are gone. She left a note. Something about not wanting to be 'married to the mob'."
The room went silent. The wedding planners exchanged panicked looks. Her father's face drained of all color.
"The deal..." he stammered, looking at Abraham. "Our deal is contingent on the marriage!"
Abraham looked at her father. Then he looked at the chaos erupting in the room.
"The wedding is in two hours," her father said, his voice rising in panic. "We're ruined!"
He spun around and pointed a manicured finger at Elida.
"This is your fault!" he screamed. "You and your cursed mother! You bring ruin wherever you go!"
He grabbed his coat and stormed out. The front door slammed so hard the windows rattled.
Silence descended on the room.
The lawyers looked down at their briefcases.
Abraham brushed a piece of lint off his lap. He didn't look upset. He looked... relieved.
He looked up at her.
She stood at the bottom of the stairs, clutching the banister.
"Well," Abraham said. "That was dramatic."
Mercer stepped forward. He placed a fresh folder on the table.
A clean, crisp contract.
The name field was blank.
Abraham uncapped his pen. He looked at her with those dark, knowing eyes.
"Elida," he said softly. "About your mother's medical bills..."
He tapped the blank line.
"We can structure a new arrangement."
She looked at the paper. She looked at him.
The trap had snapped shut. And she realized, with a sinking feeling, that she had been standing in it all along.
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