And Ryan.
Whatever she’d done had turned everything upside down for us. She should’ve taken us into account. Family first. She shouldn’t have left us to deal with the mess she created.
And Ryan should have stood by me. He turned his back on me when I needed him most, because his family asked him to. Like all our other so-called friends, they didn’t want to be associated with our disgraced name. When push came to shove, he chose them over me.
Mom hadn’t chosen family first, and I’d lost.
Ryanhadchosen family first, and I’d lost.
It would have been nice if everything we were going through could have united my brothers and me, instead of splintering us apart.
We finished our breakfast in silence, and then split up to finish dressing. Liam met me in the foyer. He was wearing a long trench coat over a business suit, and he’d slicked his hair into a style I like to call “fashionable hedgehog.”
Liam doesn’t like it when I call it that.
“Nice hair,” I said.
“Don’t,” he warned.
“You used to have a sense of humor.”
“Yeah, and that table used to have a vase.”
My brothers had finished cleaning the foyer. All the statues were back on their pedestals, all traces of broken glass had been swept away, and the table that used to hold the vase was empty. Looking up, I saw the chandelier had been reattached and the ceiling had been patched with spackle.
A year ago, there would have been a brand-new chandelier and a brand-new vase. I know, I know, poor little rich girl. The world’s smallest violin is playing, and all that. But the vase and the chandelier were just two more reminders that we’d not only lost half our wealth but also our place in society, all of our friends, the majority of my parents’ business contacts, and of course Mom. So, yeah, excuse me for letting the lack of things bother me. Lately, walking through the house felt like poking a bruise over and over again. Everything made me think of her.
Outside, there were other obvious signs that our finances were not what they were before our disgrace. Our fleet of classic cars and race cars had been reduced to one for everyone in the family with a driver’s license, which was everyone except me. (I’m an excellent driver but a lousy parker.) The best showpieces had been sold off. Again, I know, no sympathy. But you try losing your mother and still being grateful to have kept a car or two.
It’s possible I’m a little angry and defensive about all this.
Liam hopped into his Ferrari and didn’t wait for me to buckle myself in before slamming on the gas and roaring out of the garage. Squealing to a stop, he waited for the gate across the driveway to open, since he didn’t want the car sliced like cheese if he tried to ram his way through. I buckled my seat belt and, since I’ve driven with Liam before, double-checked it. The radio was on, loud, howling a song about a guy burning with love for a wyvern girl, pun intended. The bass thrummed through the leather of the car seat so that I could feel it through my thighs and back.
“You know it’s not my fault,” I said.
“What?” he said.
“Not my fault!” I said louder.
“I know.”
“Then stop blaming me.”
“I’m blaming myself.”
“Feels like you’re blaming me. Can I turn this down?” I reached for the volume control. He smacked my hand and then peeled through the open gate. I was knocked backward by the sudden acceleration.
I used to get along great with Liam. He liked to laugh, and I was fine with being the punch line of his jokes, so long as someone was paying attention to me. Worked out well. When we got a little older, I used to try to turn the tables on him. Sometimes I succeeded, like the time I hid a snakeskin in his bed so he’d think he was able to transform and had molted in his sleep, and he liked laughing about that just as much as he did when the joke was on me. But like my father, Liam hadn’t laughed in weeks.
We all needed something to go right, for a change.
“Where are we going?” Maybe I could get him talking about something else. It would be nice to have a normal conversation so this entire trip wasn’t tense.
“We’re visiting Maximus, like Dad told us to.”
“Where? And who’s Maximus? Come on, Liam, info. If you want me to behave right, you need to tell me what to expect.”
“Maximus’s a jewelry guy—at least that’s his public face. He owns Maximus’s Fine Jewelry and Estate Treasures. He’s also a wizard. Not a great one, but he does know how to make a few spells very, very well. Whatever you do, don’t call him Dumbledore.”
