Page 45 of Scarred Crown

The woman beckons to a little girl in a doorway in a school uniform. The girl comes over and does a twirl for me. Jesus, this is embarrassing. Feels like she’s on display, and I don’t need Julia asking questions.

“Why are you thanking him?” Julia asks.

“Uniform, for school.” She points to the outfit her daughter is wearing.

Kafil clears his throat. “His Royal Highness started a foundation to sponsor school supplies for village girls. School is free, but all students must have a uniform and supplies to attend.”

Julia glances at me, but I can’t read her expression. Does she remember?

Instead, she focuses on the young girl in front of her, oohing and aahing over her uniform and congratulating her on being able to attend school. The young girl’s mother basks in the attention, and I shift uncomfortably. This was a project I didn’t want anyone to know about, least of all Jules.

“Will that be coming across my desk later?” Julia asks when we leave the woman and climb into the Landcruiser.

“No,” I admit. “It’s a private project.” Not one I wanted shuffled across her desk, that’s for sure.

On the ride to camp, Julia is silent beside me, and in my head, I’m making a list of all the phone calls I need to make. Back at camp, I head to our tent before Julia, who is still speaking to Kafil. When she arrives, she’s unusually quiet while she gets ready for bed.

Once she slides under the covers beside me, I snap out the bedside lamp. A heaviness coats the air between us, and I can’t read whatever emotion is emanating from her. I’m not going to ask what’s on her mind because I’m not sure I want to know, but the weight of her emotions makes sleep impossible.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispers.

In the pitch black, I turn toward her, surprised. Whatever I expected, that wasn’t it. Tucking my hands under the pillow, I imagine her chestnut hair spread out against the pillowcase, blue-gray eyes brimming with kindness. My soft, sweet Jules. I’m not sure how to respond, but her words cause my chest to tighten almost unbearably. Proud of me?

“I don’t know you anymore, and I think I’ve let my sadness, my bitterness over that truth color my opinion of you.”

The anguish in her voice causes my throat to tighten. What have we done to each other? I don’t even know how to respond, what to say to her. She might not know me anymore, but I’ve had my eye on the embers of her life for years. The flames flickering, getting as close as I dare without getting burned. Just another indication of how much I’ve cared and how little she has. She doesn’t know me? I wish I could say the same.

“You should go home, Secretary Jensen. Clearly, I’m doing just fine without a babysitter.”

She sucks in a sharp breath. “I extend an olive branch and you cut it in half?”

“Would you rather I broke it into quarters? I don’t need your approval for who I am or the choices I make. I haven’t for a long time.”

The bed shifts as she rolls away from me. “You’re insufferable. I don’t know why I bothered to make an effort.”

After a while, her breathing evens out into sleep, and I stare into the darkness, her words echoing in my head.

I’m proud of you.

Maybe I don’t need her approval, but I still want it.

Jules

Fourteen years ago

Alex slithers his hand down my stomach toward the waistband of my shorts. He traces the edge of the material, as though asking permission. We’re lying on his bed, and the door is locked. Nick is at his Mandarin lesson, which is pretty much the only time Alex can get me alone. Our super-secret summer fling has been going on for a few weeks, and I keep waiting to get sucked in or under.

Alex is hot. Really freaking hot. Third-degree burns, five-alarm fire, hot. But there’s just something wrong between us, no matter how hard I try to make it right. I should be very into this—into him. Maybe I need more time.

My stomach does flutter whenever Alex enters a room, but I’m not sure if that’s the secret part playing tricks on me, or that I can’t believe, out of all the girls on the island, he’s picked me. He could have anyone, and he’s chosen me. That’s pretty heady.

There is one, relatively large, problem.

I’m terrified Nick will find out or someone else will discover I’ve been messing around with Alex behind everyone’s back. When we’re alone together like right now, my mind can’t stay focused in the room. Instead, I’m paranoid about what time it is, startle at the faintest creak in the floorboards in the hall, strain to listen to the ring of an internal phone in another room. Everything is a distraction.

Alex unsnaps the button on my shorts, and his hand slides underneath my panties, skimming my folds. One finger slips inside me, and I grip his biceps. His lips trail along my neck to my ear.

“I want you, Jules,” he groans.