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“I’d rather hang out with you,” she says to both of us. “Besides, Dad said I could. So, you two have to do as he says, which means you have to listen to me.”
Greta shoots me a quick look. Sienna has always been the brattiest out of the four of us.
“Ok, Sienna,” I say. “What do you want to do?”
Greta rolls her eyes as Sienna eagerly claps her hands. “I want you to do my makeup.”
I nod. Sienna so desperately wants to fit in with us older girls. I don’t want her to feel left out, even though I know Greta wouldn’t mind. “I’ll go get my kit,” I tell her.
“You’re leaving me alone in here?” Greta asks.
“Hey!” Sienna says. “I’m here.”
Greta pauses. “Exactly.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “I’ll be right back.”
I venture out of the library and into the large foyer of our house. I should actually call it a mansion, considering its cold white marble flooring and wide steps leading to the second story. On my way up the staircase, I spot the small crumbling bits of the banister. It takes away from the grandeur of our home. A mixture of elegance and disrepair.
Once I’m upstairs, I pass by Imelda’s room. Her door is open, and I can hear her sewing machine whirring. I poke my head in and knock on her door. Imelda looks up, her golden blonde locks falling around her shoulders. At only seventeen, she’s the most strikingly beautiful out of all of us. She receives the most attention from my father’s men during the holidays. It alwaysgrosses Greta, Imelda, and me out. Sienna is too young to notice the attention her sister receives. All the attention has made Imelda grow quieter over the years, more reclusive. Now, she spends most of her time in her room, making clothes for all of us. I have a lot of her pieces hanging in my closet. It always makes me sad how this world is already making her feel self-conscious about her looks. As women, we shouldn’t be made into objects.
“Whatcha working on?” I ask.
Imelda lifts her foot from the pedal, the whirring sound puttering out. Her room is eerily quiet. Pink and gold fabric is lined up underneath the needle. “A dress I’m making for Sienna. She asked.”
“Of course, she did.”
Sienna is also the most demanding.
“She asked me to do her makeup for her,” I tell Imelda.
Imelda raises one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Did she now?”
“Of course. You know Sienna.”
“Well, as long as she’s happy, I guess.”
I laugh a little. “Sure. At least it stops her from throwing a tantrum.” I nod at her machine. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Imelda nods and returns to her sewing.
I grab the makeup kit from my room and head back to the library. I can hear Sienna talking to Greta. Well, rambling on and on is more like it.
“Did you know more human twins are being born nowadays than ever before?” Sienna asks Greta. “Just think, you and Eva could have been twins. Imagine that.” My sister loves to pick up random knowledge from all the TV she watches.
“Sure,” Greta drawls out.
I can’t help but find Greta’s annoyance amusing, but I put her out of her misery by walking back into the library. “Twins, huh?” I ask. “Well, Greta and I are technically Irish Twins. We’re exactly a year apart.”
Sienna snaps her fingers. “That’s true. I didn’t even think of that.”
“Uh-huh,” Greta mumbles, sitting up from her chair. “With that in mind, this Irish twin is going to take a bath.”
“I figured you were going to try sneaking out,” I say, winking at her. Father has guards stationed at every door. He claims it’s for our protection, but I think he’s just way too overprotective. As a single father, he can’t keep an eye on all of us, so he hires an abundance of guards. Our mother passed away in childbirth, having Sienna. Maybe that’s why our father dotes on her so much. She’s the last piece of his wife.
“When I said bath, it’s really code for sneaking past the guards and riding Emilia.”
“That sounds more like it,” I say.
