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I don’t ever want to see Mom like this.
I obey and sit down in the chair she’s pointing at in the middle of Waylen Penmayne’s office.
“Mom, I’m sorry...”
I’m not given space to finish my sentence before I’m cut off by the woman who gave birth to me.
“Stop, Emma. There is no point in apologizing. Let’s not waste time. I need a moment to process what just happened and to talk to you properly.”
“Oh.”
Mom lets out a long sigh before she aggressively rips off her cleaning gloves and sits down in the chair next to mine.
We sit in silence for a while.
I wonder what’s going through Mom’s head. Well, I know I’ve disappointed her. It was all my fault - I did a stupid thing, and yet she doesn’t want toevenhear how sorry I am.
This must be serious.
In the silence, I can’t resist letting my eyes roam around the office. An impressive desk frames the center of the room. Behind it rises large, tall, tinted windows that look out over the grounds of the Penmayne estate. An impressive view beckons beyond. I’ve heard through the staff grapevine that even the brothers are barred from taking a step into this room. This is Waylen’s inner sanctum, and Mom has the honor of keeping it clean and spotless. There are framed photos of the Penmayne family on proud display on the desk, all smiling and happy - seemingly normal for a family of some of the richest people on the planet.
So this is where a multi-billion-dollar worldwide media empire is run from?
Like everything else in this mansion, I am awed by the sheer scale of it.
“I’m sorry, Emma,” Mom finally whispers beside her, her eyes cast downward.
What did she just say?
“Sorry? Sorry for what, Mom? I’m the one who should be sorry for what I did...”
“I’m sorry for dragging you here to this mansion,” she continues. “I’m sorry for not being able to provide you with the childhood and the teenage life you deserve.”
“Mom...”
But she doesn’t stop.
“Of course you acted out – you’re a teenager. I’m the one who’s kept you locked up away cleaning toilets when you should be out there having fun. I’m sorry that I can’t provide you with a life full of happiness and joy and no cleaning work to do like other teenagers, but I can’t. I’ve tried over the years, but I simplycan’t. I couldn’t give you the childhood you needed, and I feel so guilty as a mother. I’m not blaming you for testing the boundaries when it is perfectly normal to do so after your entire childhood life spent living as an adult, and I know it’s me who’s failed you. Every single day from when I wake up, I feel like I’m swimming against the tide, and I amlosing.”
“What do you mean?” I ask her. “You’re trying your best, Mom. I did an incredibly dumb thing today, which I definitely shouldn’t have done. It’s my fault. I should pay the price. Don’t you start feeling guilty about me.”
Mom looks at me then. There are tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “You shouldn’t pay any price, Emma. I missed giving you a real childhood. All those lost birthdays and vacations...”
I glance away from her gaze, unable to bear her focus. God, we totally could pass for sisters with our matching hazel eyes and our long brown hair. I never knew my father, nor do I ever want to - Mom told me he was a quick fling who disappeared the moment he heard about me in her belly. I’m a pure accidental baby. But she also tells me that I am the best accident that ever happened to her.
“I really don’t care about any of that,” I say to her, still looking away. “I understand why we had to work and travel and live day-to-day. It’s fine, Mom. I screwed up, and I am sorry.”
“It isn’t fine, Emma. It’s never been fine.”
“Please Mom...”
“Listen to me,” she says, cutting me off while squeezing my hand tight. “I’m willing to do one thing for you now, though. One thing to repay all those lost birthdays and vacations.”
“What, Mom?”
“As my present for you, I can offer you anything you want. Tell me whatever it is you desire, and I will try to make it happen with everything I have.”
That makes me pause.
