“Why would he ask that?” Perdita questioned, her eyes narrowing now at the old man still sitting at his desk, idly playing chess, obviously choosing to ignore them all.
“He’s dying. Cancer, apparently. Octavius doesn’t want to kill Father, even though Father has offered an increase in his inheritance if he does, and so I decided I would instead. Not that I necessarily want the increase. I don’t really care about the inheritance,” Bilal replied, numbly now.
“Oh my god,” Perdita said.
“I don’t think anyone should kill Father,” Romeo said.
“I agree. We need to look into chemotherapy and drug trials, or palliative care, not freaking murder,” Fola said.
“He said he wants to die. Shouldn’t we respect his wishes?” Bilal asked.
“No, not when what he essentially wants is for Octavius to help him complete thissuicide missionof his!” Fola replied, not noticing the way Bilal flinched at the wordsuicide.
“Whatever. I’m good with any outcome. Just let me know what you guys decide,” Bilal said, making a start for the door.
“You’re not seriously leaving right now, Billy?” Perdita asked.
“Yes, why would I stay? That man is clearly not well in more ways than one and I’m tired of having this conversation about him and his wants and desires. WhatIdesire is to go to bed.”
“My goodness, I didn’t realize you were so selfish,” Fola said, shaking her head at her brother. “What happened to you?”
“Me? Selfish?” Bilal almost laughed at the accusation. “You should take a good old look in the mirror before calling anyone anything.”
“Guys, please stop fighting each other, this isn’t helping anyone,” Perdita said.
“I’m sure he’s enjoying it,” Octavius said, nodding toward their father. “He loves when we fight. We’re easier to control that way—divide and conquer and all that.”
“Stop it, Tavi,” Fola said.
“Why should he? It’s true, Father does prefer it when we hate each other’s guts. He’s twisted like that,” Bilal said, slurring his words a little.
Fola squinted at him, realization dawning on her. “Billy, have you been drinking?”
“Yes, why?” he said.
“I thought you were on pain medication… You shouldn’t be drinking.”
Bilal rolled his eyes. “I’m aware. I didn’t have too much, and I can look after myself. Besides, you’ve seen meactuallydrunk before, you’d know if I was not doing well.”
It was true. She had seen him in a much worse state before, and that was kind of what concerned her. It seemed like Bilal’s tolerance had gone up, like this was something he might regularly be doing… drinking while on his medication. It was like Bilal was trying to harm himself on purpose.
“You really should still be careful,” Fola said.
“Fola, I’m fine. You don’t have to baby me the way you baby Octavius. I’m literally turning eighteen in two months.”
“Fola doesn’t baby me,” Octavius said just as Fola was saying, “I don’t baby him!”
“Enough!” a loud voice boomed over everything else, silencing the room. Their father was standing now, glaring at all of them. “Your bickering is giving me a migraine. My wishes for how I go about my life and death are only the concern of those who I have explicitly expressed those wishes to.” Mr. Button stepped out from behind his desk.
“I will say, Octavius, I am disappointed in you,” their father continued. “You have so much potential and yet youalwaysmanage to disappoint me. You’re almost as useless as Romeo,” he finished, gesturing to their brother, whose expression was unreadable. Octavius tensed at his father’s words, feeling the little boy who lived and breathed inside of him, the boy who always wished to make his father proud, shrivel up and die. His vision atrophied, blurring as he blinked back tears that had been building for what felt like eons.
“Don’t speak to him like that,” Bilal said, standing tall above all of them. “Don’t speak about any of them like that. Romeo isn’t useless. Just becauseyoudon’t see worth in him doesn’t mean he isn’t a person, and a great one at that.”
“You’re one to talk,” Mr. Button spat. “Wasting all of your potential, literally throwing your life right out of the window.”
“Father—” Fola tried to step in, but Mr. Button held his hand up to her, silencing his eldest daughter.
“I’m still speaking, Fola, please wait your turn,” Mr. Button said.
