Page 17 of Raise Hell

Unlike my father, I don’t have a problem lying in the beds I’ve made.

Or screwing in them.

Though he might be surprised to learn that I’m still technically a virgin, even after he basically disowned me. The only thing he pays for now are lawyer fees. And that is only because he doesn’t want my name ending up in the papers when it’s the same as his.

He never asks where I get the money to survive on my own, and in return I didn’t report him to CPS for making his underage daughter homeless.

I’d been living in Detroit at an artist’s collective for the past six months. The chick I was crashing with had been teaching me how to pick pockets. My favorite targets were creepy old men who had no business hitting on a girl young enough to be their daughter.

A pretty girl like you should be smiling.

Sure honey, I’ll give you a smile. But you won’t have one the next time you reach for your wallet.

Robbing from the cringe-inducing rich to give to the poor is a laudable thing, especially when the poor is me. It wasn’t going to last forever, but I had fun.

The call felt like being doused with icy cold water.

When Olivia’s number popped up on my caller ID, I knew it was bad. I’d been feeling strangely for days, like something was wrong with the world, even though I had no idea what it might be. We never really had that twin connection people like to obsess over, so it never occurred to me that I felt so off balance because of her.

But it wasn’t Olivia on the other end of the line.

My father’s voice was clipped when he delivered the news. He always spoke to me like I had just done something disappointing, even when we had gone months without any contact. His tone wasn’t a surprise, but his words rang in my ears like gunshots.

Attacked.

Coma.

Might not survive.

Come home if you want to say goodbye.

My heart stopped in that moment, and I don’t think it ever restarted.

The only reason I was able to say something agreeable, put down that phone, and plan the trip home was because I didn’t believe it could be true. Everyone knows that tragic things happen, but you never think it will be your family that gets torn apart.

My father was nice enough to book me a flight back to Rhode Island that I wouldn’t have been able to afford otherwise. I had to find my own way from the airport, but I’m no stranger to hitchhiking.

When the nice farm boy with a truck bed full of tools drove up the long driveway, he let out a long whistle. “This place is nice.”

“Only from the outside.”

Our family abode is an ostentatious manor home just outside of Newport. Some people call it a mansion, but those people didn’t go to stuffy private schools with the children of billionaires. The house was built by some gilded age industrialist with more money than sense, and my father has always been obsessed with maintaining the original touches. At least half of the thirty rooms are entirely off-limits so none of the antique furnishings actually get used.

God forbid you sit your jean-covered ass on a piece of furniture that is only meant to be an art piece. This place is more of a museum than a home.

For some reason, he seems to think people will forget we’re new money if he acts pompous enough.

I was still in denial when I blew the farm boy a kiss as I mounted the curved steps to the front door. Normally, I would have been forced to use the servant’s entrance by the garage. But I wasn’t slinking back home with my tail between my legs this time.

This time, I was there to sit a vigil at my dying sister’s bedside.

It didn’t become real until I saw Olivia lying in the hospital bed that had been set up in one of the guest bedrooms. She seemed smaller than I remembered, her body barely a few bumps under the blanket. Bruises covered her swollen face, and there was still blood in her hair that no one had bothered to wash out.

Someone should have washed it out.

Her skin was cold when I reached out to touch her arm. I pulled my hand away when my father entered the room behind me.

“She is breathing on her own, at least.” My father’s voice was expressionless. “But the doctors don’t know if she’ll ever wake up.”

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