Tension dripped around us for several minutes before Caroline caved.
“I’ve discussed Penelope’s situation with George,” she said without preamble. “He’s agreed that it’s untenable. Therefore, we’ve decided that, despite the original terms of your departure from this family, it would be…beneficial for all parties involved if you resumed your correspondence with Penelope.” Caroline sounded like someone was peeling strips of her skin off with each word.
“But let us be clear. This isn’t a free pass for you to worm your way back into this family.” My father’s eyes blazed beneath thick, gray brows. “You disrespected us, embarrassed us, and ignored us when we gave you an opportunity to make amends. However…” His glower deepened when Caroline glared at him. “Penelope is clearly attached to you, so for her sake, we’re willing to give you some leeway provided you act appropriately.”
“I have no intention of worming my way back into this family,” I said coolly. The very idea was laughable. “I’m doing perfectly fine on my own, so let me be clear. The only reason I’m here is because of Pen. She’s the only Kensington I want anything to do with, and I have zero interest in drudging up the past. You betrayed me, I embarrassed you…I don’t care. Now, let’s get to the real reason why we’re here, shall we?”
I wasn’t worried about them kicking me out. They’d swallowed a massive amount of pride just by asking me to come, and they wouldn’t throw that away before they said what they wanted to say. My father’s face turned a fascinating shade of purple. He’d thrown me off-balance at the hospital, but I hadn’t planned on seeing or confronting him then. This time, I was prepared, but I no longer cared enough to engage more than I had to.
Sometime between Pen’s hospitalization and now, I’d healed enough to not let him get to me by the mere fact of his existence.
“We’re willing to let you see Penelope on our terms,” Caroline said stiffly, drawing my attention back to her. I bristled at her choice of words, but I kept my mouth shut until she finished. “Specifically, once a month at a predetermined time, date, and location of our choosing.”
“Once a week, at a predetermined time and date of our choosing.” I shook my head when she opened her mouth to argue. “Pen is nine. She’s homeschooled, which means she doesn’t get many opportunities to interact with kids her age. You and George are rarely home, and you’ve fired the only person in this household who treats her like a normal person. The least you can do is let her have some say in her own life.”
Silence engulfed the room.
Caroline glanced at George. A telltale vein throbbed in his forehead, but he gritted out an acquiescence.
“Fine. Once a week at a time, date, and location of your choosing.” He stood abruptly, his frame radiating barely suppressed anger. “We’re done here.”
He left without another glance at me or his wife.
Caroline took his sudden departure in stride. “In the future, you and Penelope will meet elsewhere,” she said, flicking her eyes over me. “I have no interest in bringing you into our home again. As you can see, your presence has a way of creating strife.”
I ignored her jab and focused on the first part. “In the future?”
Does that mean…? My stomach flipped with a sudden surge of hope.
Caroline smiled thinly. “You may want to stay in the room for a bit longer.”
Then she, too, left, but she’d barely departed before a familiar girlish voice squealed, “Sloane!”
I turned my head in time to get tackled by a small blond blur. Pen’s arms wrapped around my waist, and a rush of pure, indescribable relief filled my lungs.
I hugged her back, my chest so tight it hurt to breathe.
“Hey, Pen.” I smiled past the swell of emotion in my throat. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” She looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with tears. She looked a lot thinner than the last time I’d seen her. While I was glad to see her again, we needed to have a talk about her hunger strike—after I finished squeezing the hell out of her. “I didn’t think I was going to see you or Rhea again,” she said in a small voice.
My heart broke at the vulnerability in the words.
“Trust me. I would’ve found a way to see you again, one way or another.” I meant it. My father and Caroline couldn’t have stopped me from seeing Pen forever. I would’ve found a way around their stonewalling, though this was a much better alternative than other, perhaps less ethical alternatives.
I didn’t think I was going to see you or Rhea again. The last part of Pen’s sentence registered, and a furrow dug between my brows. What did she—
A flash of movement caught the corner of my eye. I turned, taking in the woman hovering in the doorway.
“Rhea!” I gasped. “You’re back.”
Pen’s old nanny smiled, looking tired but satisfied. “I’m back,” she confirmed. “Mrs. Kensington called me after the new year. Penny put up such a fuss that the nanny they’d hired after me quit.”
“That new nanny sucked,” Pen said. “She didn’t even know that Blackcastle is a soccer team.”
The remaining tension broke, and there were hugs and tears all around as the three of us reunited for the first time since November. Well, not tears from me—I hadn’t been able to cry again since I reconciled with Xavier. I suspected I’d emptied the well so thoroughly it’d take another twenty-odd years before the phenomenon happened again.
However, the joy of seeing Pen again didn’t stop me from scolding her about her hunger strike. It wasn’t healthy, especially not for someone with her condition.
“What’s this I hear about you refusing to eat?”
She slunk down in her seat. “I didn’t refuse to eat. I simply skipped a few meals and threatened to skip more unless they let me see you.”
“You shouldn’t do that, Pen,” I said gently. “Your health is the most important thing, and skipping meals can be seriously harmful.”
“But they took you and Rhea away, and the threats worked!” she protested. “See? Look at us.” She gestured at our trio. “Honestly, I should’ve tried that tactic sooner. Then we wouldn’t have had to sneak around for so many years.”
I sighed while Rhea shook her head. There was no arguing with Pen; she won every time.
“What do you want to do today?” I asked, switching topics. As long as she ate regularly going forward, there was no use dwelling on what was already done. “I took off work, so I’m all yours.” I’d planned on going into the office that afternoon, but I’d just emailed Jillian to tell her I wouldn’t be in.
Pen pursed her lips, her little face scrunched in thought. “I want to watch a movie.”
My eyebrows shot up. She rarely wanted to do something as calm as watching a movie. She watched soccer games, but that was different. “A movie? Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She gave a definitive nod. “I don’t want to get tired too fast.”
“Then a movie it is.”
