There had been so many things to take care of in such a short period of time. It had been days since she’d last seen Sam. She’d broken her lease, found a moving company to clear the apartment, and spent a long time at the bank sorting out her strange new finances.
This meeting was far less daunting than the one with her father had been, but she still found herself oddly dreading it. She rang the doorbell and stepped back.
The door opened, spilling the smell of hibiscus air freshener and the soothing chords of a classical song into the hall.
Her mother frowned, blinking hard at her. “Ophelia? What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk.”
Her mother huffed, but she stepped back, opening the door wide in invitation.
Ophelia stepped over the threshold, taking in the eclectic, cluttered decor of her mother’s luxury apartment. It was nearly bursting with antiques and the latest trends from her favoritedesigner stores, as though it was more important for every room to be a testament to wealth than for them to be functional.
“You’re dressed up,” her mother said, easing the door shut behind her. “What’s the occasion?”
“I’m going to an event,” Ophelia said distractedly, doubting herself as she looked around the place.
If her mother sold even half of this superfluous furniture, she’d have enough to keep herself afloat for the next two years—longer, if she could be convinced to give up the overpriced and over-sized apartment in the nicest part of town. Ophelia rubbed her thumb over the envelope pressed against her stomach. Was she making a mistake by enabling her further?
“What kind of event?”
She didn’t miss the familiar note in her mother’s voice, the one that said she might be about to ask for a favor.
“Nothing you’d be interested in attending,” she said.
Her motherwouldhave been all too interested in attending an event with the richest and most influential people in the city—even one as salacious as Automata After Dark. That would be the kiss of death for her plan. Having sex in front of a bunch of strangers was bad enough. If her mother was in the audience? She thought she might finally agree to let Sam start killing everyone who got in their way.
“Well, what are you doing here, then?” her mother asked, her voice once again flat with boredom.
“I came to give you something,” she answered, turning the envelope over in her hands.
Her mother’s eyes lit with avarice. “Is that from your father?”
“No.”Sort of. “It’s from me.”
“Well, hand it over.” She held out a hand expectantly, wiggling her manicured fingers.
Ophelia did as requested, and her mother didn’t wait half a breath before ripping into it to get at its contents. When she unfolded the documents within, she frowned.
“What is this?” she asked, looking up at Ophelia.
“It’s an educational trust fund. There’s a hundred thousand dollars in it, to be used at any university of your choice.”
Shock rippled over her mother’s face, quickly chased by anger.
“Why would you give me this?” She waved it in Ophelia’s face. “What the hell am I supposed to do with it? Why on earth wouldn’t you give me the cash?”
“Because you would waste it,” Ophelia said sharply, in no mood to kowtow. “Just like you wasted your own money on all of this.” She gestured vaguely around the apartment.
“How dare you talk to me like that? Do you think you’re above me, now? Is that it? Daddy pays you a little crumb of attention, and now you’re his girl? He doesn’t care about us, Effie. He never did!”
“You’re wrong,” she said around the lump in her throat. “He might not care foryouanymore, but he’s still my father. He cares. I think he always did, as hard as you’ve worked to convince me otherwise. You knew it, too, or you wouldn’t have bothered sending me to him with my hands out every time you wanted something from him.”
“You spoiled brat,” her mother spat, tears brimming in her bright blue eyes. “You really are his daughter. Not an ounce of hesitation to cut me down! You’rejust like him.”
Ophelia sighed, suddenly weary. “I don’t have time for this,” she said, rubbing the dull ache between her brows. “I have somewhere to be.”
“Well, good! Then you can take this rubbish with you and don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out!” She half-crumpled the trust documents and threw them at Ophelia.They caught ineffectually in a draft of air and separated as they fluttered to the ground, littering the entryway.
