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I’m trembling.
It’s subtle, mostly in my hands, the way my fingers twist together in my lap like they’re trying to braid my nerves into something useful instead of completely destructive.
I can feel my nerves everywhere. In the pit of my stomach. In the tightness in my chest. Even my heartbeat feels wrong, like it’s trying to outrun this moment.
The sitting room is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Like from a movie. If I thought Jake was rich, this is a whole new awakening.
Tall ceilings. Gilded crown molding. Paintings on every wall, some classic, some modern, all expensive. Everything smells like lilies and lemon polish. Like wealth.
I sigh, dropping my eyes to the woman sitting in front of me.
Elena Hanson. My aunt.
She sits across from me in an armchair that probably costs more than everything I’ve ever owned in my entire life. She’s dressed in a cream silk blouse and navy trousers, her heels tucked neatly under her chair. Her dark hair is swept back, not a strand out of place, and her lipstick is the exact same shade of mauve that used to stain the edges of my grandmother’s teacups in the only photo I have of her.
She looks like someone important.
And she looks like him.
Her cheekbones, the slope of her nose, the almond shape of her eyes, my eyes. Every little detail makes my heart ache.
She smiles, soft and almost wistful. “You look just like your grandmother when she was younger. I have some pictures I can show you.”
I blink. Swallow hard. My mouth moves before my fear can catch it. “Why have I never
met you before?”
Her expression falls just enough to show the pain behind it. She sighs and smooths her
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hands over her knees. “Because I was a coward. Young, but still a coward.”
My breath catches.
“I’m obviously younger than your father,” she says quietly. “His little sister. I adored him. Still do.” Her lips tremble for half a second, but she catches herself.
I bite down on my cheek so I don’t cry myself.
“When he married your mother, Diana, our parents, they didn’t take it well. Old money. Old minds. They’d chosen someone for him, someone they thought would elevate our name, secure alliances, whatever nonsense they cared about.”
She pauses, glancing toward one of the paintings on the far wall.
“They disowned him,” she continues. “Told him he could stay in the family or stay with
her. He chose her.”
Shock spreads through me. “What?”
She smiles, her voice soft. “Of course he chose her. He loved her so much.”
My mind spins, my confusion spreading. “He never mentioned that. He told us his parents
died a long time ago.”
She grimaces. “I don’t blame him. They were terrible to him.”
I press my lips together, the sharp sting behind my eyes threatening to spill over.
“I didn’t know how to stand up to them. I was too young, too afraid of losing everything.” She gives a shaky laugh. “So I let them send me to England for school. I disappeared.”
I nod, but I don’t feel like I’m taking everything in. I’m numb.
“And when I found out about the accident, I called Diana, but she wouldn’t talk to me. She wouldn’t give me anything. Not a funeral date, not anything.”
I look down at my hands. My knuckles are white from how hard I’m squeezing them.
“That’s terrible,” I whisper.
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Elena leans forward and reaches for me. Her hand is warm, her grip gentle. Her eyes shine, glassy and earnest.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “That we can finally be
a family, even if it’s just the two of us.”
