Page 122 of Paper Doll


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I’m sure that as the Kings’ Doll, I’ll be given straight A’s anyways. And even if I manage to graduate with a degree from the prestigious Corvus College, there’s nothing left for me after. Rumor has it, the Doll is expected to marry one of her Kings after graduation. I’ll never be free of these monsters.

No matter how hard I try to push all the bad things from my mind, it’s no use. The evil of this place eats at me like a tumor, growing larger and more malignant with every passing second, spreading to every part of my being until I feel like I’m going to be sick. I curl up tighter on my bed and pull the blanket over my head, squeezing my eyes shut and wishing for the millionth time since arriving at this hellhole that it’s all just a bad dream I’ll wake up from.

Except it isn’t a dream, and I never will. I’m trapped here, isolated and alone, abandoned by the one person who was always supposed to be there for me.

My mother.

As morbid as it sounds, I don’t even know whether she’s alive or dead at this point. I’ve been here over a month, and she hasn’t called, hasn’t written, hasn’t even sent a single fucking text message to check in and see if I’m okay. She’s just off enjoying her time away with Gideon.It’s always been all about Gideon.

The shrill ring of my cell phone startles me, my heart leaping into my throat, and for a split second, I wonder if I’ve summoned her with my thoughts alone. That maybe she’s finally calling to tell me this was all a mistake, that she’s coming to get me, that this is all over and we’re going home. I toss the comforter away and lean over to snatch my phone off the nightstand, hoping it’s her, knowing it isn’t.

But maybe it is.BecauseGideonis calling me.

I mash the answer button so hard it hurts, shoving the receiver against my ear.

“Mom?” I gasp.

“Ava,” Gideon’s hauntingly familiar voice rumbles.

My naive burst of hope deflates like a balloon. “Gideon, hey,” I greet, my voice strained.

“You sound tense,” he muses. “Everything alright?”

“Oh, justgreat,” I reply, my sarcasm thick.

“Well, if you want to get away, your mother and I are back in town. I know she’d love to spend a few days with you to catch up. I could send a driver to pick you up tomorrow morning.”

I blink in shock, almost not trusting my own ears.

Is this a joke? Some kind of sick prank to make me look even stupider than I already feel?

It seems way too good to be true, and knowing my luck, it probably is.

“Can I talk to my mom?” I blurt, pulse taking off at a gallop.

“She’s resting at the moment,” Gideon says apologetically. “You know how she is with jet lag, always knocks her down for at least a week.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, my stomach sinking. I’m still pissed at her for abandoning me, but suddenly the only thing I want is to hear her voice, see her face, and sink into one of her hugs. “What time tomorrow?” I ask, hoping the edge of desperation in my voice isn’t as obvious to him as it is to me.

“I can have him there by eight,” Gideon assures.

I worry my lower lip between my teeth, staring down at my lap, my mind racing.

Eight is good. Eight is fine.

But six is better. It’s a whole half hour before the first of the guys’ alarms start going off.

“Can you come earlier?” I venture, hoping it sounds casual enough. “Maybe around six?”

Gideon is silent for a beat, as if he’s calculating something. I hold my breath.

“I think we can make that work,” he finally says, and relief floods out of me on an exhale. “Maybe your mom and I will come along too, keep you company on the ride back.”

“Really?” I ask with a sudden burst of hopefulness.

“Sure, if you want,” he chuckles. “Anyways, I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” I agree. “Thanks, Gideon.”