At six thirty, the doorbell rang. Julia’s heart leaped in her chest.
Candace was in the kitchen cleaning up from dinner. She frowned. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“Yes,” Julia lied, jumping up from the couch. Pippa had barely looked up from her TV show. “I’ll get it.”It has to be Chloe,she thought as she raced through the foyer and pulled the door open. Maybe she wanted to deliver the good news in person!
Only it wasn’t Chloe. It was Mrs. Fitzpatrick. And sitting in the car behind her was a sullen-looking Chloe in the passenger seat.
Mrs. Fitzpatrick smiled tightly. “Sweetheart, I wondered if we could talk?”
Julia bit her lip nervously. “Hi, Mrs. F. I guess Chloe talked to you.” She held the door ajar.
It was a long conversation. If Candace was upset or angry, she gave no indication. Mrs. Fitzpatrick did most of the talking. By then Chloe had come in, her eyes red and puffy.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, taking a seat beside her mother on the opposite side of the dining room table. “I tried.”
From time to time, Julia stole sideways looks at Candace, wholistened and nodded, saying very little. In the end, the message was clear: the Fitzpatricks adored the girls. Loved them, in fact. But they were not in a position to adopt them or take them in. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I thought it best if we all sat down and talked this through together.” She reached across the table for Julia’s hand and squeezed it. “To make sure we’re all on the same page.”
Julia forced a smile, but on the inside, her bones ached. No matter what they said, no one was on her page. No one had any idea of the pain her page held.
Candace turned to her. “Well, I must say I am surprised by all of this, though I suppose I should not be.”
“London isn’t the only option for us,” Julia said. “We don’t want to go, and I was trying to figure something else out.”
Candace thanked Mrs. Fitzpatrick. “I do appreciate you bringing this to my attention. It’s been a very difficult time for all of us. There’s a lot we need to work through.”
Mrs. Fitzpatrick nodded sadly, but her eyes were trained on Julia. Julia could feel the weight of her sympathy boring a hole into her forehead. She wished she would look away. Instead she did the worst possible thing and came around the table to pull Julia up out of her chair and hug her. “Honey, I am truly sorry for all you’re going through, but we love you. And given time, I really believe everything will work out okay.”
Julia nodded, but she didn’t believe a word of it. She couldn’t bring herself to look at any of them when they stood to go.
Candace walked them to the door, and Julia made for the living room. Pippa was still glued to the TV, her thumb jammed in her mouth and Monkey in her hands. “Time for bed,” Julia said, snatching the remote from the leather ottoman. She clicked the TV off.
“Hey!” Pippa wailed.
“I said time for bed,” Julia snapped.
“Julia!” Candace stood in the living room doorway. Pippa began to howl. Candace crossed the rug and went to her. “It has been a trying night. Don’t take out your frustrations on your little sister.” She took Pippa’s hand and led her out of the room. Julia flopped down on the couch, numb.
She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but the sun had finally slipped behind the hills in the distance. Candace flicked on the kitchen lights, and Julia could hear the clicking of her sensible low-heeled shoes across the marble floor. She stood in the living room archway. “I think you should get ready for bed, too.”
Julia didn’t answer. The skyline was inky gray and dark. She imagined her insides the same color.
Candace came in and sat beside her on the couch, lowering herself cautiously a cushion’s distance apart from Julia. “That stunt you pulled tonight was unacceptable. Calling up a nice family like that and worrying them to the point where they felt they had to come check on you. As if you were somehow in danger.”
Julia sat up. “That’s not what happened. I called them because I want to stay here. If you weren’t taking us away, I never would’ve had to do that.”
Candace looked tired but unwavering. “I know you’re going through a lot. But you’re fifteen years old, not a child. Your little sister is looking to you for guidance.” She looked straight at Julia. “It’s time you licked your wounds and cooperated.”
Like her parents’ death was a scraped knee? “How can you say that? It’s—”
“The truth,” Candace said, rising from the couch. “When my parents sent me away to boarding school from this very house, I, too, was angry. I felt like they were getting rid of me. I didn’t want to go.”
“My parents are dead,” Julia said, standing, too. “And you’re notsending me to boarding school. You’re taking Pippa and me away from everything we know.”
Candace was not finished. “The truth was, my parents knew what was best for me, even if I didn’t. Moving away taught me independence. Resilience. I learned to count on myself, and I grew up.”
Julia shook her head. “I don’t need to grow up,” she said, fighting back tears. “What I need is my life back!” Before Candace could say another word, she spun on her heels and ran for the door. Barefoot, she ran headlong across the yard. The grass was already damp and cold beneath her feet. By the time she reached the barn door, her heart roared in her ears. She tugged it open. Inside, she ran across the dirt and hay-strewn floor to Radcliffe’s stall. He raised his head curiously and nickered in greeting.
“Oh, Raddy.” Julia let herself in his stall and flung her arms around his strong neck. His mane was soft and smelled like hay and sunshine, and she buried her face in it, crying.
