Page 107 of The Courting of Bristol Keats
Bristol rolled her eyes. “Really, what did you get?”
“Five mil,” Cat confirmed. “No joke. We’re still trying to absorb it, too. But Sonja said it was legit.”
Bristol shot out a barrage of questions, still skeptical. Cat explained that it was an anonymous buyer and Sonja was helping them figure out where to put the large sum of money. All Sonja knew of the buyer was that it was someone who was a longtime admirer of their father’s work.
“So that’s our big news. What’s yours?” Harper asked.
Bristol was so stunned about the art, she almost forgot she had something important to share, the answers to a lifetime of questions. “I know who we are, at least partially.” She told them the story of their father’s origins, who his parents were and where they came from. “His birth name was Rían Kumar.” She saw them both visibly sink lower on their elbows as the details unfolded, the news startling the strength from them as much as it had her.
When Bristol finished, Harper repeated the names Sanjay Kumar and Catherine Brennan several times. No doubt she was already making plans to research what she could about them at the library. By the time Bristol returned home, Harper would probably know where every Kumar and Brennan lived within a thousand-mile radius of Bowskeep, and be convinced they were related to them all.
“But that’s only half the story. There’s more. This part . . .”
This was the hardest part to tell. Bristol looked at her hands in her lap, at the sharp blue nailbeds that were impossible to ignore. The reminder that she would never be who she was again, that her parents perpetrated the biggest con of all on their middle-born daughter. Bristol swallowed, her gaze returning to Cat and Harper. “Remember that little birthmark on my—”
Cat began shaking her head. Her chin dimpled again. Tears puddled in her eyes.
Bristol paused, watching her recoil, the anxious tilt of her head, the rise of her shoulders like she was bracing herself.Remember that little birthmark.Something unspeakable crawled over Bristol’s scalp. She watched every twitch of Cat’s flushed cheeks, and it split something inside Bristol wide open. A suffocating awareness crashed over her. The secret glistened in Cat’s eyes. Bristol choked on her words, struggling to make her mouth work again. “It—When—You knew?You knew?” She gasped for air. “Oh my god. Oh my—”
“I was going to tell you,” Cat sobbed, her tears now streaming. “But I promised Daddy not to say anything unless something happened. And then you ran off—”
“Something happened, Cat! Something fucking happened! How could you not tell me? What else haven’t you told me?”
“What’s going on?” Harper wailed. “What are you talking about?”
“I only found out when I went back to school,” Cat cried. “Daddy said—”
“That was over a year ago! You had a whole year to tell me!”
“I’m sorry. I—”
“Sorry?And you think that fixes everything? I have a fucking monster on my back, Cat!”
“You shouldn’t have gone. I told you—”
“Maybe I wouldn’t have if I had known! I had a right to know! I trusted you! I told you everything! And you told me nothing! Look at my hands!” Bristol shoved a hand through the portal, splaying her fingers wide. “This is what I am now, Cat!” Though she didn’t even know what that was. No one did.
Cat and Harper stared at her hand, horrified, like they were looking at an animal’s claw. Maybe that was exactly what it was—or would be.
Cat grabbed Bristol’s hand, trying to pull it to her cheek. “I’m sorry. Please, Bri—”
Bristol snatched her hand away. “Get away from me! Get the hell away! I don’t even know you!” She pushed and slammed her fist against the edge of the portal, trying to block out Cat’s voice, and then to her shock, it closed. Disappeared. Just like that. The sounds, the sobs, the yelling—gone. The silence vibrated inside her.
She searched the wall, her hands trembling, trying to find the portal boundaries again, but it was solid. The portal had vanished, along with Cat and Harper, and no matter how she pressed and probed, she couldn’t get it back.
CHAPTER 73
The throne room was dark and rough-hewn, an ancient stronghold, one of the oldest structures on the palace grounds. The soot-dark vaults arched across the ceiling and splayed over the petitioners below like the protective rib cage of a beast—its heart a magical beat that made everyone speak in whispers. Deep windows set high in the walls let in the barest of light, and the rest was lit with torches. The walls breathed with memories, the blood that had been shed, the victories celebrated, the schemes of kings and creatures, the layers of history that were pressed into their seams. A young woman lurked in the shadows of the vestibule, oblivious to the murmurs of the walls, but the rough stone blocks felt every beat of her heart as she wrestled with her own unfolding history.
Bristol was still furious with her sister. It was one more lie, and this one, especially, was breaking her. How could Cat have kept this secret from her? Their father was persuasive, but Cat wasn’t a child. They were both grown women. Cat should have known his promise was unreasonable.
She leaned back against the cool wall. It felt like there was nothing she could believe in anymore. That everything and everyone had hidden sides, her town, her parents, and now Cat.Cat.The one person she thought never lied. Bristol closed her eyes and saw her sister’s glistening irises again, her cinnamon lashes spiked with tears. The secret had weighed on Cat. Bristol’s heart wobbled against her will, but she was bitter and wanted to stay angry.
She better understood that protective armor Tyghan reached for again and again. It was a way to keep others at a distance and to shield yourself from more betrayal. She wanted Cat to worry and wallow over the secret she kept, wanted her to see Bristol’s hand plunged through the wall in her every waking and sleeping moment, to feel the horror anew each time as she saw the half-blue nails that looked like the retracted claws of a beast—to ponder how deeply she had wounded Bristol. But the memory of Cat’s tears made her heart wobble again. Damn the secrets, lies, and her stupid weak heart.
She rubbed her temple, reluctantly swallowing at least some of her bitterness. She’d let Cat stew for a while before she reached out to convey a message of understanding. The portal might be gone, but she knew Eris was quite proficient at sending letters.
She turned her attention back to the proceedings, watching from afar.
