I quickly run through everything I could’ve done wrong or missed while they were gone, sudden anxiety filling my chest.
Did I attend all the classes? I think I did. I was supposed to run some errands in the city. I think I did all of that.
We all pick up our pace as we walk toward the mansion, and we’re all nervously quiet.
Natalya’s hair is still wet and her white uniform shirt is green from the grass. Shit.
We get inside and immediately walk into the kitchen to welcome them, finding it almost empty. Rick is probably in his office and Sylvia is sitting by the kitchen island alone, pouring herself a glass of white wine.
She wears her typical tight dress and heels, and her hair is smooth and long. Coldness lingers all around her.
“There you are. Sit down, all of you,” she says quietly, while bile rises in my throat.
She didn’t even give us a glance. That’s bad.
I knew she would find something. She always does. I did something wrong.
We all take the chairs by the kitchen island and sit down.
Sylvia opens her phone and her red gel nails clap on the screen, unlocking it.
Disgusting silence fills the enormous kitchen.
She turns the phone toward us, showing us an email from Natalya’s school.
I forgot about that. Shit.
She takes the phone back and reads the email out loud for us.
“Flipping the teacher off and calling another teacher—” Sylvia pauses before putting extra emphasis on that word, “Puttana?” Her eyes immediately jump to Adrien, who just breathes out a laugh.
Idiot. Can’t he keep his mouth shut?
She gets up, her heels clap on the floor as she walks toward him and we all freeze in terror. She grips a fistful of his curls at the roots and smacks his head so hard that his forehead hits the edge of the marble kitchen island, breaking the skin right above his eyebrow.
Natalya gasps and covers her mouth. He hisses and clutches at the wound. The stain of his blood is even on the white marble.
“Jesus. Clean that,” Sylvia snaps at him.
He immediately gets up and grabs a paper towel from the kitchen counter, wiping the blood from the marble.
She exhales and continues. “Go unload our stuff from the car,” she says, gesturing to Adrien, then turns to my sister. “Natalya, you are grounded. Go to your room.”
Natalya gives Adrien an apologetic look and disappears around the corner.
Sylvia finally looks at me, her expression empty and disappointed.
She must feel the hatred. It’s burning my insides.
I can’t push away the images of her head smashing on the marble kitchen island until she stops breathing. I imagine exactly where I would have to hit her so she wouldn’t get up anymore.
“Go change, you’re going to the city with me,” she finally says.
No.
I was actually praying for the basement this time. This is way worse.
Kasien
