She blinks, then opens the door wider to let me in. My grandparents aren’t exactly the kind of people you pop in on unannounced, so she must be unsure about the protocol.
“I’ll let Mrs. Moore know you’re here,” she says as she accompanies me to the sitting room. The furniture is upholstered incream-colored fabric that seems more suited to a museum than to actual human use. Ornate gold-framed mirrors hang on the walls, reflecting an endless cycle of mahogany and marble, like some never-ending luxury loop.
I sink into a wingback chair that’s as stiff as my nerves, perching uncomfortably on the edge. My gaze drifts to the clock in the corner, and I am half tempted to rearrange a pillow just to see what happens, but then the distant sound of heels clicking against marble reminds me where I am—and who I’m waiting for.
My grandmother enters the room in a tailored lavender suit that complements her silver hair, pinned back in a neat chignon. “Scarlett, dear.” When I stand, she leans in for a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. “We didn’t expect you.”
“Yes, I know. Sorry, Grandma.”
“Oh, nonsense.” She sits primly on the couch, smoothing her already-perfect skirt. “You’re always welcome.”
Oh, she’s proper mad.
“Thank you.” I rub my hands together, the heat from my palms doing little to warm the icy knot of nerves in my stomach. “Is Grandpa going to join us?”
“He’s at work, unfortunately.” Her eyes narrow, the slightest twitch betraying her annoyance. “If you’d let us know, I could have had you over when he was available.”
“That’s okay,” I say quickly, ignoring the veiled jab. “I just wanted to talk about Ethan.”
She crosses her legs, her pearls catching the light. “Well, go ahead.”
“I’m not sure if he told you, but he’s come over to my place a couple of times.” I adjust my position on the stiff couch. Her expressiondoesn’t change—not a flicker—so I push forward. “And I couldn’t help but notice that he’s… struggling.”
“Struggling,” she echoes.
“Yes, uh, to make friends.” I hesitate. “And you must have noticed his face. The bruises?”
She doesn’t even blink. My pulse quickens, the tension in my chest tightening like a vise, until she finally says, “He’s been spending time with this… friend. Jace something,” her voice dripping with disapproval. “And to be honest with you, it’s been nothing but trouble since then. He gets into fights, and the other day, I caught him smoking.Smoking!” She shakes her head, her lips twisting into a disdainful pout.
Relief washes over me that at least on this, we seem to agree. “Did you talk about it?”
“There’s no talking to your brother,” she snaps, waving a manicured hand dismissively. “It’s all ‘Mind your business’ and ‘I’m busy now.’?” She sighs dramatically. “I went to see his teachers, then Dr. Waven, and he said—”
“Dr. Waven?”
“His therapist.”
I rub my forehead, trying to process what she said. “Uh, Grandma… that’s a huge invasion of his privacy. You can’t do that.”
“I wouldn’t have had to if he talked to me.”
“So, what message are you sending him? That he shouldn’t trust his teachers? His therapist? That he has no right to privacy?”
Her lips press into a tight line, her irritation radiating off her in waves. “Well, thank God I did it, because Dr. Waven said—”
“I don’t want to know,” I say firmly, raising a hand to cut her off. “It’s none of my business.”
She exhales sharply, her nostrils flaring. “Of course.” Standing abruptly, she gestures toward the hallway with a flick of her hand. “Well, it was lovely seeing you. I’ll say hello to your grandfather for you.”
I stay seated, my hands clasped tightly in my lap, digging my nails into my palms. After a beat, she sinks back into her seat.
“Is there something else?” she asks.
“He mentioned Virginia.”
She pauses—long enough for me to know she didn’t plan to share that particular piece of information with me. “Uh-huh. What about it?”
“You tell me. Are you shipping him off to another state?”
