Page 143 of Cashmere Ruin

Because it’s right.

Charlie got hurt because of me. My brave baby brother, who put himself in the line of fire to save our mother from her deadbeat husband. And why did he have to do that? Because of me.

God help me, Eleanor was right: I ama selfish bitch.

What else was she right about?

Everything, that nasty part of me whispers. And maybe that’s not wrong, either. How can I be a good mother when I’m such a shitty daughter? A shitty sister to the only sibling who’s ever given a damn about me?

How—

“Apes. Stop. Seriously, I’m okay.”

That’s when I realize there are tears on my face. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I should’ve just given her the money.”

“No way. Not a chance in hell. That money’s yours. You earned it fair and square.”

“But Mom’s right: I don’t need it. Matvey—he’d probably cover the tuition if I asked. And with this new job, maybe I could…”

Charlie’s hands squeeze my shoulders. “No,” he says with an air of finality that’s way beyond his age. “If my dad knows what’s good for him, he’ll stop gambling. He’s not going to do that if someone’s footing the bill for him.”

“He’s not going to do that either way, Char,” I murmur. “You know that. We’ve seen it.”

“Maybe,” he concedes, smile still bright on his split lips. “But I want to give him a chance.”

I pull him into a hug. “You’re too good for them,” I whisper into his hair. “Way too good.”

He chuckles. “Hey, I’m a handful, too.”

“No, you’re not. You were always the kindest kid in the room.”

“I doubt that,” he replies. “You were there for a good while, too.”

I pull away before I can start bawling on my teenage brother’s shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want the money?”

“I’m sure,” he says. “I want to be like you. I want to earn my keep. And my dream—I want to earn that, too.”

I think back to his one thousand hobbies and laugh. “Oh? Have we decided, then?”

“No.” He shrugs. “But isn’t that half the fun? Finding out what it is?”

That’s it: I hug him again. “I’m so proud of you.”

He makes a choking sound in response. Am I squeezing too hard? Oh, whatever. I already checked his ribs and they’re fine. He can take a little more of this.

“Apes—”

“Shh. We’re having a moment.”

“Sis, I can’t breathe.”

Right then, the door opens: it’s Matvey. “April?” His appearance is a bit ruffled, as if he rushed all the way here. “You weren’t answering my texts, so I?—”

Then his eyes find Charlie.

For a second, I panic. I remember how pissed he was last time Charlie dropped by unannounced, telling me I’d broken the rules. I scramble to my feet, rushing to explain. “Sorry, I wasn’tchecking my phone! There was kind of an emergency back home, so Charlie?—”

But Matvey passes right by me. He tips Charlie’s head up without a word, those keen blue eyes assessing the damage. No doubt he’s done a lot of this in his line of work. “Anything broken?”

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