Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

“Karolina Castillo?”

“This is her,” I reply, quickly, eager to end the call. The professionalism in her tone does raise alarms in my head but not enough to tear me from my computer screen. I’m deep into writing my latest romance novel, racing against my publisher's revision deadline, and I’ve been in a rut all week—until inspiration struck an hour or so ago. Now, I can't tear my fingers away from the keys to focus on this unexpected call that I most definitely did not mean to answer.

“This is Eve Thompson, a nurse here at Haven Medical Center. I’m calling regarding your father, Sergio Castillo?”

My fingers freeze, and my breath hitches in my throat. The letters on my screen jumble together, as I’m yanked from the vibrant world I’d just created and thrust back into the harsh reality of life.

“Yes,” is all I can manage. A knot twists in my stomach, squeezing tight. I brace myself for whatever news is coming, trying to remind myself that it is what it is. The state of our relationship was his undoing, not mine and I’ve made peace with that.

That’s not what your therapist says.

“Your father’s been in an accident. He’s stable, but his injuries are significant. The doctors have him in a medically induced coma for the moment, to help him heal and evaluate the extent of his injuries. I understand you live out of state. You might wanna make arrangements to get here as soon as you can, so the doctors can discuss everything with you further.”

“Okay,” I reply, my mind struggling to grasp the weight of the situation.

“Do you need our address?”

I shake my head, realizing too late that she can’t see me. “No, I know my way home. Thank you,” I add before disconnecting the call.

Home?

Haven, North Carolina hasn’t been my home since I was nine. The name feels foreign, and I can’t even recall the last time I thought about it or my dad—except for the occasional therapy session where both have been the root of many discussions.

I shut my laptop and head out of my home office to my bedroom, grabbing my suitcase from the linen closet. I pack quickly, tossing shorts and leggings into my bag, when I remember where the hell I’m going and how unprepared I am for the drastic weather change.

Glancing out the window at the warm Tampa sunshine filtering in, you would realize we were deep into fall here, if it weren’t for pumpkin spice being in season. The vibrant colors of autumn are lost here, replaced by palm trees, humidity, and endless blue skies.

So, how do I pack for a place that feels like a distant memory?

I rummage through my closet for sweaters I reserve mostly for the brutal air of indoor A/C and layerable items. I toss my toiletries in and zip up my suitcase, noticing the tremble in my fingers. My heart pounds as anxiety coils around my thoughts like a vine.

I take a deep breath, forcing the tightness in my chest to ease. My mind races with a thousand “what ifs,” but I push them aside. No time for tears or regret right now. I shake my head and focus. I pull out my phone and search for Haven Medical Center and enter it into my navigation app.

Nine hours and twenty-two minutes—that's six hundred and thirty-six miles until I reach my destination. If I leave now, I’ll get there by ten tonight. I grab the sports jacket I left on my bed when Zorro, my black cat, jumps up onto my bed. He meows at me, as if asking ‘And where do you think you’re going, young lady?’ Of course, I imagine him saying this with an accent as thick as Antonio Banderas.

I rub his chin, smiling as he arches into my touch and begins to purr.

“I know you don’t like it when I leave, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. I just need to make sure he’s okay until he wakes up, and then I’m hauling ass back here. Promise.” He jumps down and I follow him out as he walks into the kitchen. “Let’s make sure you have plenty of food and water while I’m gone, but you know Mami will be here checking in on you.” I fill his automatic food dispenser and two-liter stainless steel water fountain. He rubs against my leg before darting over to his lavish floor-to-ceiling cat penthouse, complete with multiple levels, plush bedding, and even a built-in scratching post.

Zorro may be a rescue, but my baby is bougie.

I continue talking to him because, honestly, I have yet to meet a man who listens like he does. “I’ll wait until I’m on the road to call Mom or you know she’ll try to convince me to fly there—or worse, try to come with me.” He meows back as if to say, “Girl, I don’t blame you,” while rolling onto his side.

I pack a canvas bag with snacks for the drive and a couple of energy drinks before shouting, “Love you, bye!” to Zorro and heading out.

As I lock the door, memories of the last time I made this drive flood my mind. I had come down on a whim during summer break before starting college after my dad surprised me by flying down for my high school graduation. It was a rare visit since all we had shared since the divorce were Sunday morning phone calls. The naive teenage girl with clear-cut daddy issues yearned for more from him.

But instead of the bonding experience I had hoped for, it spiraled into the biggest mistake of my life—one that ended with my father kicking me out of his house, and me giving my virginity to the boy next door.

God, I was such a mess.