Page 2 of Fractured Loyalties
“Sit, please,” she says, her tone borderline annoyed.
I obey, planting myself on the very edge of the couch, my hands folded in my lap. Silence blooms between us, vast and echoing, like the rest of this creepy house.
She clears her throat. “So, you got here without incident?”
I nod. My jaw is already tight, as if my teeth are glued together. I can’t find any words. I have no idea how to talk to this woman.
“Hmm.” She scans my clothes and my ratty Converse trainers. Her own shoes are eggshell leather, pointed and spotless, even in this weather. “Is this your usual…?”
“…Traveling… attire…” I supply for her. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, feeling embarrassment seep into my face with a blast of heat. She’s going to think I’m an imbecile, andfor some reason, I donotwant that. I want her to like me–even though she was the one who completely abandoned me.
She gives a single, sharp sigh through her nose, then glances at her phone, which she produces from nowhere. She flicks it once, then tucks it away again.
“Your father would have told you to dress more appropriately for this meeting.”
My blood feels as if it has frozen in my body.
“Yeah,” I mutter.He would’ve come here with a fucking flaming torch and pitchfork.
“Your father’s. . . unfortunate passing has created a difficult situation for all of us,” she continues, putting exactly the right amount of distance in the pause as she meets my eye. “But we’ll make the best of it. I’m sure.”
I nod, and then wait for her to ask if I’m okay or something… She doesn’t.
“I understand this is a difficult transition for you,” her expression unmoving, “But I do want to tell you that certain standards must be upheld while you are here. Robert and I expect a show of decorum from all members of the family, and that extends to you, now.”
She examines the tips of her fingernails, which are perfectly oval and light pink, as she speaks. “Tomorrow, you’ll have orientation at Woods Private. Uniforms are provided. We’ll have dinner as a family tonight. And, for the love of God, Ivy, dress appropriately—not whateverthisis.”
Every sentence hits harder than the last. I stare at the pattern in the carpet as she stares at her phone again, watching the tiny knots swim in and out of focus.
I try to keep my voice from cracking. “What about my stuff from home?”
She glances up, clearly irritated at the interruption. “Your belongings will be delivered later. There are storage lockerson the lower level for anything that doesn’tfit…If you need something immediately, I suggest making a list. I’ll have them brought up for you, I suppose.”
“Okay,” I say, my mouth full of sand.
“You’ll have a room here in the main house, as well.” Her expression is completely blank and devoid of any affection. “But understand this, you arenota guest, Ivy. This is your home now, and we expect you to conduct yourself accordingly.”
Yes, ma’am,” I nearly whisper, my whole body just aching to go back to myrealhome.
She smiles, though it’s brittle. “Good. That’s settled, then.”
My mother stands, already back to tapping away at her pocket screen. “I have a call to make. Edward will take you to your room, or if you’d like to freshen up before, there’s a guest bathroom at the end of the hall.”
She’s already half-turned to go before she hollowly adds, “We’re glad to have you here, Ivy.”
I watch her walk away, with measured, unhurried steps. The heels of her shoes make no sound at all on the carpet. Once she’s out of sight, I realize I haven’t unclenched my hands since she walked in. Deep crescents are pressed into my palms and, as I stare at the little half-moons…
I fucking lose it.
Tears stream down my cheeks, and I immediately slap a hand over my mouth and nose to try to stifle the noise.
I hate this.
I’m sure my mother would say I was not acting accordingly. I don’t think the woman has ever cried a tear in her life.
But then again, I wouldn’t know. I barely remember her. I doremember her packing her things when I was seven years old, while my dad begged her to change her mind. She gave him the middle finger and told him to go fuck himself.
She hated us. Shestillhates us.
