Page 70 of The Manor of Dreams

Bitch.

“What did I raise my daughters for?” Her mother snapped. Lucilleclutched the chair under the table. “To be troublemakers? To invitestrangersinto my house without my permission?”

“Vivian.”

“You’re supposed to be doing something good this summer. Working like all of your classmates, not doing nothing andwastingyour—”

“Stop overreacting,” Dad said sharply. Immediately Ma shrank. “When I was Lucy’s age, I threw all kinds of parties when my parents were away. Younger, even. I threw so many parties when I turned sixteen that I’ve forgotten half of them.”

“But she’s not—” Again, Ma stopped mid-sentence. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she fumed. Lucille wanted to know what the ending of that sentence was. Not—? “She’s my daughter.”

“She’sourdaughter,” Dad said, and there was a finality to his tone. She could have sworn that he winked when he looked at her. “But don’t make a habit of it. Or at least let us know. All right?”

Lucille nodded gratefully. She tried not to look at her mother.

They ate the rest of dinner in silence. Afterward, she retreated to the library and stewed. She read in the armchair and watched the phone out of the corner of her eye. She stood and plucked the worn copy ofPride and Prejudicefrom the shelf. The cover fell open and a flattened violet fluttered into her palm.

To A— Page 571. – S

Lucille stared at the words. She recognized Sophie’s handwriting. She flipped to the page. There, underlined, were sentences that made her take in a sharp breath.

I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.

Lucille stared at those lines. She tried not to think about what she’d seen in the closet and what it meant. She didn’t know if she felt uneasy because she now knew her sister liked girls or because it was Sophie, ofall people. Maybe Sophie was the one who came up with this whole idea and looped Ada into it. Lucille couldn’t tell if she should be angry or worried about her twin, if what Ada was doing was secretly devious or perverse. They’d grown up together. They knew everything about each other. But already she felt her own sister slipping away from her, hiding, keeping secrets. And it was all because of the gardener’s daughter.

At that moment the doors opened behind her.

“This can’t happen again.”

Lucille turned toward her mother, still holding the book.

“Listen to me,” her mother said quietly in Mandarin. “What you did was forbidden.”

Lucille gritted her teeth. “All my friends are throwing parties. Dad threw parties. You throw parties—”

“It’s different.”

Lucille tilted her chin. “Different how?”

“You are Chinese,” her mother said, jabbing a finger at her. “And you always will be Chinese. I will never let you turn into a soft American—”

“I don’t even know what thatmeans.You’re American! I am! Dad is! We all are!”

“Yin Chen!” her mother shouted. Lucille jumped. “I don’t care what your dad says. Don’teverdo this in my house, and don’t bring your sisters into it.Youshould be setting the example, not drinking and getting into trouble. This isn’t the daughter I know. Even Ada knew better.”

Lucille was indignant. “You think Ada did nothing,” she said icily.

Ma looked exhausted. “It wasyourparty. What did Ada do?”

A long silence passed. Lucille clenched her jaw. “Why don’t you ask Sophie?” She set the copy ofPride and Prejudicedown on the desk with the cover open to the pressed flower so that her mother would see everything. Lucille marched out.

VIVIANsat at her vanity and thought about what Lucille had shown her. Clearly she was hinting at something between Ada and Sophie. Why were they putting flowers in the bookshelves? And why were they writing messages to each other when they could just talk to each other?

She mulled over this when she applied her lipstick for the day.Makeup had become her armor. Foundation, eyeliner, brow powder. Her lipstick color depended on the day. Only bright red if the occasion allowed it. Today was audition day. She should appear modest. She chose a muted shade of pink.

There was a knock on the door. Before, Edith could come in at any time. But now, Vivian needed to make sure that everything was properly concealed by the time anyone else could see her.

“?,” Edith said. Vivian nodded in greeting. In the periphery of the mirror, she saw Edith dust the nightstand and the dressers. The housekeeper knelt next to the bed and straightened the sheets. Vivian put on her earrings and looked for her layered pearl necklace to match.

---