Page 70 of Hateful Lies

Chapter 34

Astrid

In stony silence, Elliot and I leave Foxworth House together. A passerby would think we were strangers who just happen to be in the same place at the same time. If it weren’t for Mom, I would tell him off again, grab my things, and return to Monarch Academy for good. Instead, I start to walk away, but Howland stops me before I can run down the stone stairs and away from him.

“How are you doing for money?” he asks.

I’m speechless as he pulls out his wallet and holds out some bills. He watches coolly as my mouth screws up.

“It occurs to me that if you had money, you wouldn’t need to find it in other ways.” Howland glances at my black eye. “The next time you’re hurt, call my office. But it would be easier to avoid your old friends.”

“Mom told me not to tell our secret,” I reply. “And I haven’t.”

He pushes the money into my hand, and ashamed, I take hold of it. He watches me thoughtfully and then shakes his head. At first, I’m offended until he speaks.

“No, Astrid. I can see you’re not the type that tells.”

Clicking footsteps approach, and I look over. Charlotte starts up the steps toward us. She looks striking in a light blue sweater and matching gray boots. The wind isn’t blowing, but her hair is bouncing as if it were. She gazes at Howland with a big smile.

“Hello, Daddy,” she chirps.

Elliot eyes her with more contempt than he showed me. He nods briefly and then hurries down the steps and walks quickly down the path toward guest parking. I stare at him, wondering what is wrong with this man. Charlotte has to be his favorite daughter, and he just blew her off like she’s worse than me.

“How was it?” she asks, touching my arm.

I press my lips hard together and shake my head, willing my tears not to fall. “I’m annoyed, that’s all,” I tell her quickly.

“Our father is an asshole, and unfortunately, it won’t change.” She slips her hand around my arm, and we walk away. “Evidently the gossip has leaked through tendrils of idleness and is slowly wrapping around the campus.”

I gawk and then laugh. “What are you talking about? You are so weird.”

Charlotte laughs. “See? I knew I could get you to laugh. Your father’s identity is still a secret to the rest of campus, but rumor has it that you are an heiress.” She smiles as we walk across the yellowing grass. “You’re now in an exclusive club. The bastards of Stonehaven. I mean that in the literal sense, not as an insult.” She hugs my arm. “Oh, Astrid, it’s not all gloom and doom to be rich.”

“Really? Because that was a freaking miserable reunion. He took no responsibility for anything he’s done wrong in the past.” I sigh. “Do you mind having a thieving whore for a half-sister?”

“There are worse sins, like being dull, banal, boring.” Charlotte waves her hand in a flourish.

“Those are all the same things,” I tell her.

“Ennui is only appealing when you’re attractive and in the Hamptons.” She makes that cute gerbil face again. “Oh, Astrid, it’s almost the weekend, and I love having a secret sister.”

“You are so fucking goofy,” I pull my hand away. “Fuck, you’re making me cry.”

“We have to cover that eye,” she giggles, “I’m sure Daddy loved it.”

Charlotte insists that we go back to her dorm room so she can cover up my black eye. She sits me by the window and takes out her secret makeup stash. In her bag are bite-sized candy bars— the kind rich people give out for Halloween. Not the off-brand dollar store candy but the good stuff—the name brands.

“Take some if you want,” she says, “I have more.”

“How do you have so much junk food?” I reach for M&Ms.

“I eat my emotions when I’m bored with shopping.” She smiles sadly, but there’s more to what she’s confessing. She changes the topic quickly. “So tell me what happened.”

I recount every word, and Charlotte makes the appropriate faces at the key points in the story. She dabs gently at my eye and doesn’t complain when a stray tear messes up her handiwork.

“Our father is a distant man when it comes to emotions,” she states firmly, “If it weren’t for my mother, I would have no social skills. When I was younger, he was a bit more carefree, but I had to think about it long and hard. When did he start becoming an asshole? And it started happening when he started working longer hours at the hospital.”

“How do you suppose he met my mother?” I ask her as if she would know.

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