Page 27 of These Summer Storms

Alice had to hand it to her father, he’d always known how to motivate the family into action.

“Who is no longer eligible? Just the person who fails? Or all of us?” Greta clarified.

“All of you.”

The family stiffened, the stakes growing higher—they not only had to worry about themselves, but also about one another. Sila sat forward. “What’s everyone else have to do?”

Greta’s letter collapsed in her tight fist. “We have to do whatever Dad wants. Again. Because it will always be what he wants. Forever.”

The group went quiet. Alice looked to Jack, who did not have the grace to look uncomfortable, even when he met her narrow gaze.

Sam was furious. “This is insane. If one of us fails, we all lose? That’smillions.”

“Billions,” Sila clarified, as though she checked NASDAQ:STOM every morning. Which she no doubt did.

Sam looked like he wanted to do crime. “And you? What do you get?”

Alice’s gaze narrowed on the newcomer. Whatdidhe get for playing messenger? “That’s not relevant,” Jack said.

It seemed incredibly relevant, but no one spoke as Sam waved a hand in Jack’s direction, looking to Alice. “You see? Dad’s favorite.”

Alice was beginning to believe it.

“This isn’t a game, Jack,” Emily said. “This is ourlife.”

“What if we don’t play?” Greta asked.

“We’re fucking playing,” Sam said. “Whatever is in your fucking letter—you’re doing it, Greta.”

She turned cold eyes on him. “Careful, Sam, you losing out on your share of the inheritance might be worth me losing mine.”

And there it was—the game, afoot. Franklin would have delighted in watching the entire family struggle between winning together and sticking it to each other. Although the Storms had been raised to believe in Storms above all, no one had ever suggested that exiling family members wasn’t fair play.

Look at Alice.

“What’s he want you to do?” Sam was needling Greta. “Take the stick out of your ass?”

Greta folded her letter and placed it back in her envelope. “It’s not your business.”

Silence fell as she realized her misstep. If Greta didn’t want everyone to know what her assigned task was, she shouldn’t have made it a thing. Sam smirked in her direction, tucking his power away for future use, and directed his attention to Emily and Alice. “And what about you?”

Emily clutched her envelope tighter. “You’re being an asshole.”

He leaned back in his chair and flashed his irritating white teeth. “Tell us or don’t. It’s all going to come out anyway. Someone has to judge the damn game.” He looked to Jack. “Speaking of which, whoisgoing to judge the game?”

“I am.” Jack spoke with unbelievable calm, like the whole morning was a perfectly ordinary, everyday occurrence. Like ordering lunch. Pastrami on rye with a side of emotional spectacle.

“You’ll be here all week?” Alice couldn’t keep from blurting out the question. Couldn’t keep it from sounding panicked, couldn’t keepherself from feeling fully betrayed by his long legs and strong hands and his compass tattoo.

Ironic, that, considering how he had thrown them all so far off course.

No one noticed her chaos (unsurprisingly). Instead, Greta met Jack’s gaze. “I’ll ask again. If we don’t play, what happens to the money?”

“It will be divested.”

Brows rose around the room. Elisabeth spoke. “To where?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”