“You both get up early. And you two are usually having coffee together now.”
I press a hand to my heart. We had routines. That made us almost sound like a family. Then I deflate. "I don't know."
"Oh." Madison sets her backpack on the couch. "Are you okay?"
I laugh, but it comes out bitter. "I'm furious. And I'm—" I stop myself. She's fourteen and has too much on her shoulders already.
"Worried?" She finishes quietly.
Our gazes meet, and there's no point lying to her. I’m sure she sees it all—the anger, the fear, the exhaustion I can't hide.
"We fought last night," I admit, running a hand through my hair. "And he took off on his motorcycle. I'm sure he's fine, but I worry.”
“I’ve been on the back of his bike. He knows what he’s doing.”
She settles onto the couch, picking at her cuticles. She's quiet for so long, I know a question is coming. And recognizing her truth, understanding my half-sister better, feels good when everything else hurts. “What’s up, Madison?”
"Can I tell you something?"
“Always.”
"The reason I picked Thorne's house to live in wasn't just about family." She keeps her gaze on her fingers. "I saw how you two looked at each other at that meeting. Even when he was being horrible to me, he kept watching you. And I thought... ifyou had a reason to stay in Kentucky, you wouldn't take me back to New York so fast."
My stomach drops. "Madison."
"I know it was manipulative." Her voice cracks. "But I was desperate. And you're good for him. He's different around you—softer, even when he's trying not to be." A small, sad smile. "I thought if I got you two in the same house, maybe you'd both want to stay. And then I could stay too."
I should be furious. Should feel used. But all I can think is: what kind of childhood teaches you to play people like chess pieces at fourteen? To read a room, find the weakness, exploit it before anyone knows what's happening?
She's her mother's daughter.
“Did Thorne already leave?” asks Lillianna, walking into the living room. Damn. She has shadows under her eyes as dark as mine.
“He left on his bike around midnight,” I tell Lillianna. “He hasn’t returned.”
"Shit."
"We had a fight." Why am I telling them this? Yet, I add, “A bad one.”
Lillianna comes closer. “He told me he screwed up with you. What happened?"
"He interfered with my career." My mouth dries just saying it. “Called my managing partner and essentially bought my partnership. Eight million-dollar retainer. After I explicitly told him not to.”
Madison's jaw drops.
“That idiot,” Lillianna sighed.
At least she doesn't jump to her brother's defense. Perhaps she loves him, but sees his faults. Could I do the same?
Whoa, wait. Love is a big word.
And no, not after what he’s done.
"Ivy, that's—God, that's awful. I know him, he's a fixer. But shit, that..." Lillianna shakes her head.
"Yeah." I don't need her to finish the sentence. We both know what Thorne did.
She sits on the arm of the couch. “I was looking for you to ask for your help, but after this, you’ll probably tell me to get lost.”
