“I am.”
Junior’s eyebrows furrow before he bursts into annoying, uncontrollable laughter, clutching his chest and wheezing with every breath. Apparently, another thing we don’t have in common is our humor. He thinks I’m taking this too seriously, but I don’t care. Ineedto take this seriously. This can’t be another thing I mess up by being unprepared and afraid.
I pin him with a look until he stops laughing. “Oh, you’re being serious?”
“Canyoube serious for one second? This is important to me,” I say, unclipping my seatbelt and sliding out of the car. I round the front of it to meet Junior as we walk up the path. The door he left open taunts me, and a part of me wishes the wind would just blow it shut so I could use it as a sign not to go in.
I knew it was a little over the top to get dressed up like this, but I need to show my parents how serious I am about it. I’ve planned everything through, and a pantsuit was the cherry on top.
Junior slings his arm over my shoulder, rocking me to the side a little. “I know this is important to you, Scar. I’m sorry.” I scoff, shrugging off his arm and walking through the foyer. High ceilings shine as I look up, taking in the elegant nineteenth-century architecture. I take a left at the end of the hall, past the dining room and toward my parents’ offices.
“Look, I think what you’re doing is really brave,” Junior says, catching up to me, and he actually sounds sincere.
I peer up at him cautiously. “You do?”
“Yeah,” he says, grinning. “You might be the favorite child, but you’ve still had it harder than the rest of us. Leo gets a round of applause if he remembers to tie his laces.”
I want to laugh, but it hurts too much to. That has been the way this family has worked for as long as I can remember. The boys have always had an easier run than me even if my parents spoiled me in other ways. For a while, I never questioned it. They’re all smart and capable and they’re clearly good at what they do. But even with the small things, my parents have always shown a little more interest in them, praising them for the simplest of tasks, while I have to work twice as hard to be noticed. It was good motivation for a while, until . . . well, until I had to do something toreallyget my parents’ attention.
Junior drops his arm from my shoulder, and I peek into my bag, making sure I’ve got all that I need. “What if they don’t take me seriously?” I whisper, feeling stupid for even voicing my worries out loud.
“They will. They have to,” Junior says, serious brown eyes on mine. “We’ll be out here waiting.”
“We?”
It’s then that Leo and Arthur appear from behind one of the hidden doors. Arthur is dressed to the nines as usual, a crisp Voss suit stretching across his frame, dark black hair slicked back behind his ears. His twin, Leo, is wearing sweatpants and a hoodie two sizes too big, holding a bag of fries in his hand. Typical.
I frown. “All of you?”
They smile at me and it’s hard to pretend I’m mad. Avoiding my parents meant avoiding my brothers too. And even thoughnine-year-old Scarlett wouldneversay these words out loud . . . I missed them. A lot.
Arthur leans against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. “Hello to you too, sister.”
“We won’t eavesdrop, we promise,” Leo says, but the smirk on his face tells me otherwise.
I take in a deep breath, getting one good look at the encouraging smiles of my siblings before I turn the handle on the meeting room door and step inside.
The large room is bathed in a soft, warm glow from the last rays of today’s sun. A large conference table fills most of the room, chairs tucked neatly into each space, as a screen projects sales trends onto a presentation board.
My parents are sitting at the end of the table, talking quietly as they look over papers.
I stand up straighter, push my shoulders back, holding out the box of cookies I retrieved from my bag as I make my way toward them. I need to get my breathing under control in the next five seconds, so I don’t sound as panicked as I feel when I get to them.
They’re both still looking down, so I clear my throat to get their attention. “Mother, father,” I greet, and they lift their heads, slightly confused eyes flickering between each of mine. I hold out the cookies toward them. “I come bearing gifts.”
My mom tilts her head to the side, but it’s my dad that retrieves the box, an amused smile on his lips. “Thank you . . . daughter?” I nod, gripping on to the strap of my bag now that my hands are empty. “What’s going on,tesoro?”
I smile brightly. “Nothing. I just wanted to see my wonderful parents.”
My mom frowns. “After you’ve been ignoring us for weeks?”
My chest tightens.
This is going great, so far.
Still, I push through, holding my chin even higher.
“I haven’t been ignoring you,” I say calmly, “I just needed some space to cool down.”
