4: Dasha.

I expected it to take a little more convincing, but once I issued the ultimatum, Clement and Nicholas nodded—stiffly, of course—and boosted me back into the house so I could pack my bags and leave a goodbye note for my aunt. It’s a cop out. I really should speak to her face to face. But my father put distance between him and his sister, same way he created a divide between us, so she’ll probably be relieved not to have a virtual stranger in her house anymore. Most of my things are either smoke damaged or in storage now, so it didn’t take long to collect my meager wardrobe, my fashion portfolio and school books.

We flipped a coin to decide whose truck I would ride in—Clement won—and after a silent but charged ride, we’ve arrived at Clement’s house.

As I walk up the stone path leading to the front door, flanked by Clement and Nicholas, the spontaneity of what I’m doing begins to hit me. I’ve just snuck out of my aunt’s house to be with men I’ve only known a week. I’ve been living with m