Page 95 of Little Miss Fortune

‘Maybe let’s stop using the language—’

‘Do not interrupt me, Mrs. Lewis. How could a girl stay with someone who verbally abuses her in public? But it makes so much sense. Because of you!’ In a eureka, I slam my hands on the table, shocking myself. It must be the wine.

‘We do not abuse our children!’ Mr. Lewis shouts at me, his angry red finger wobbling in my face.

‘And thank god for that. I can’t even imagine what would’ve been left of them if this is your version of not abusing them.’

That’s right, the wine has had the same effect on me as it has on them.

They shout some obscenities, something about motherless daughters, they even throw in a couple of the swear words they hated so much but a minute ago. But they leave. Sophie’s shoulders are now relaxed, as she takes the deepest breath. The chefs are frantically cleaning up.

Toby and I do not break eye contact.

He might be lucky in everything else, but good god his parents are pricks.

CHAPTER 32

Maybe, just maybe, our sisters are the fallers

The sounds of dishes clacking and sponges rubbing against stone plates is punctuated with rapid bursts of water being turned on and off. My arms are crossed on my chest, making it obvious when I take my angry deep breaths.

To talk in such a manner about your own child. And to sit there doing nothing when your sister is getting berated.

‘I—’ he starts, his hands opening and closing into tight fists at his sides.

I don’t say a word. My lids feel heavy, needing to block my heart from the sight in front of me.

‘Your mum—’ he says.

‘Is dead.’ I nod.

The chefs pack up and quietly shuffle out of the apartment. Sophie is standing behind me, biting down on a cuticle. I flash a sad smile at her, and she smiles back.

‘I am sorry for having a go at your parents.’

‘Oh.’ She pulls the finger away, surprised that I addressed her. ‘It’s fine.’

I don’t think it was. It wasn’t my finest moment, provoking parents of my not-yet-and-now-possibly-never boyfriend into having a shouting match with me.

‘You just sat there.’ I finally break, snapping my head back to Toby. ‘You sat there and listened to the horrible things they were saying. You didn’t even intervene when I told your lot about Mr. Douchebag from the coffee shop. You let me believe that your sister is this delinquent that’s falling behind in life, when actually she is not as perfect as you, perfect little Toby. It’s not kind. It’s not nice. That’s not who you are.’

I wait for him to respond. But he says nothing. He just stands there, looking at the floor.

I click my tongue, go to the lift, and put my shoes on. I wave my hand around, but the lift doesn’t arrive. How the fuck did four people exit this apartment right before me? Sophie comes with me, and the doors open for her straight away as she slides her boots on.

‘How the hell—’ I gawk, walking into the lift. ‘I am sorry about saying those things to your parents.’

‘You are pretty cool, Fuko.’ She laughs when the doors close. ‘I’m just glad that someone outside the family noticed it. They have a way of making you think it’s all in your head.’

‘They are asshats,’ I grumble with a nod.

‘But Toby...’ she says quietly. ‘Please do not think that he isn’t a good brother. He is. He tried to stand up for me when we were younger, but when he does, he becomes a target.’

‘In what sense?’ Did those fuckers lie? Do they actually abuse their children?

‘If Toby deviates from his path, the one that they’ve chosen for him, they can get... nasty.’

‘Nastier than this?’