Page 126 of Lilly

"No." He glances away.

"It's rude to stare!" Katherine scolds. "I've told you that, Conner."

His head drops in shame. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kensington."

"Don't apologize. I didn't find it rude."

Katherine glares at me, but I'm not letting her son be reprimanded for simply looking at me. The poor boy is clearly suffering under Katherine's care, to the point that he seems almost too frightened to speak for fear of his mother yelling at him.

Her phone rings and she checks to see who's calling. "I'll be back shortly." She hurries off to the dining room as she answers her phone.

Conner remains in front of me, staring at the floor.

"So...what have you been doing this summer?" I ask.

His head lifts as he speaks. "I'm studying French, and French literature."

"And do you enjoy those subjects?"

He hesitates, then says, "Mother says they're good for me."

"That's not what I asked. I wanted to know if you enjoy them. Do you enjoy spending your summer learning those things?"

He glances back at the dining room where Katherine is still talking on the phone, then looks back at me but doesn't respond.

"You can tell me the truth. I won't tell your mother. Do you enjoy them or not?"

"No," he blurts out.

"What would you rather be doing?"

His brows draw together in confusion, as though he's never been asked that before. "I'm not sure what you mean, Mr. Kensington. I take French, and French Literature. Mother requires it."

"Yes, you said that. But if you weren't forced to take those classes, what would you do?"

"I don't know. I've never thought about it."

The poor boy. Katherine has beat the life out of him. He doesn't even know his own likes and dislikes because Katherine won't allow it. He's only allowed to like what she likes. She tried doing the same thing to Lilly. She made her take ballet for years, even though Lilly didn't like it.

"There must be something that interests you," I say. "Do you like movies?"

"I'm not allowed to go to them."

"What are you allowed to do?"

"Go to museums. The opera. The ballet. Charity events with my parents."

It sounds like my childhood. Those were the only activities my parents approved of.

"I like..." He stops, afraid to continue.

"Go ahead," I tell him.

"I like sports," he whispers.

"Sports," I repeat.

"Yes, but don't tell Mother," he says, nervously glancing back to make sure she's still on the phone.

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