Chapter Eleven #2
“What? No. I wouldn’t think that.” He leans one hip against an armchair. “I just…” He exhales. “I’ve got shit going on, as I’m sure you’ve realized. Things going on in here.” He taps his temple, and I remember the hospital intake form, and what Allegra said about his sister.
I pause, hoping he might say more, but when he doesn’t, I glance down at the yearbook. “This isn’t really a secret. It’s just a personal thing you wouldn’t be interested in.”
His brows jump. “And you’ve decided I wouldn’t be interested because…
” He makes a face before I can answer. “Because I’m really good at seeming like I don’t care about anything.
Yeah, that’s my cover, but also, it’s this.
” Another tap at his temple. “Is the school loner a disaffected youth, refusing to engage with a broken system? Or is he just a messed-up kid dealing with bouts of depression?” A strained smile. “One can be both.”
He leans toward me. “You don’t need to tell me anything. But please don’t think I’m not interested. If it upsets you, as it obviously does—”
The library door slaps open, voices rushing through. Maddox curses and ducks back to wherever he came from as Polly bounces in, Theo at her side, Isolde following, and Allegra slowly bringing up the rear, as if she just happens to be walking in the same direction.
“There you are!” Polly says. “You disappeared.”
“It’s Lil’s magic trick,” Theo says. “The moment we turn our backs, poof. She’s off to the library, in search of better stories than whatever ones we’re telling. Stories like…”
He picks up the book on the desk, reads the cover, and arches an eyebrow. “Westdale Academy Staff Yearbook? Wow. This is more interesting than us?”
“Oooh.” Polly snatches it. “This is just before we were born. Wait. Is your mom in here?” She answers her own question. “Duh, no, she’s a student, not staff.”
“It’s her father,” Allegra says as she walks over. She looks at me. “I presume that isn’t a secret?”
“That my dad was the gardener?” I say. So Allegra already knew that. Of course she did. From the expressions on the others, though, she’s the only one.
Isolde chokes on a laugh. “The heiress and the gardener? Really? That is awesome. Is he cute? I bet he is.”
She reaches for the book, but Polly holds it out of her reach. I take the yearbook and flip to the photo of my father, because if I don’t, Allegra is going to smell a secret.
“Yep,” Isolde says as I point to him. “Super-cute. Look at those eyes. And that hair.” She glances at me. “Is it weird that I’m calling your dad cute?”
“Not when it’s a picture of him at our age. He was working for a year before college.”
Allegra takes the book before I can stop her. She lifts the book so it’s hovering beside my face, looks from it to me, back and forth, and then says, “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“He is definitely your father.”
“Uh, was that in question?”
She shrugs elegantly. “It’s always in question.”
Isolde nods. “He could have been in love with your mom, and some other guy got her pregnant, but he offered to take care of her and the baby.”
“Someone reads too many romances,” Allegra says. “But, yes, such a thing could have happened, and it did not. He is your father. She is your mother.”
“Congratulations,” Theo says. “Allegra Khan has declared your parents are your parents. I’m sure that’s a weight off your mind.”
Allegra waves a hand at him. “Why are you still here?”
He ignores her. “Come on, Lil. We’re going outside. Liliths After Dark.”
Allegra casts a pointed look at Theo.
Polly loops her arm through his. He extends his other one for me, and I take it as Allegra leads us out of the library. I try to peek back for Maddox, but he stays hidden.
—
As the days pass into weeks, I catch up in all my classes and settle into the rhythm of Westdale.
Natalia has backed off. Talk of the Optima race has settled.
I have breakfast with Theo, lunch with a mixed group, and dinner with the Liliths.
When I can’t sleep, I look out my window, and if Maddox is on the bench, I join him.
Cecilia and I video chat every other day.
At first, I thought she was just making duty calls, but it’s settled into a routine that I look forward to.
Living at Westdale, it’s easy to forget the outside world until something reminds me, like Theo taking a call from his mom or Polly mentioning her siblings.
Cecilia isn’t a guardian in that way, but she’s becoming more than my grandparents’ lawyer.
She comes by with lunch once a week, and we eat in the tiny dining area reserved for parental visits.
When Cecilia first came by for lunch, I figured that meant she lived in Savannah.
She doesn’t. She’s from Atlanta, where Chamberlain Enterprises has its head office and she has a condo.
But for the next five months, she’s working remotely from a leased apartment in Savannah.
Which means she’s here for me, and I kinda hate that—hate the idea that my grandparents expected her to uproot her life for me.
“Pfft,” she says when I mention it on her next visit.
“Do you know how well they’re paying me for this gig?
I hit the jackpot.” Her grin lasts two seconds before it fades.
Her voice softening, she adds, “I’m happy to do it, Lili.
For your mom. I only wish…” She cuts into her pot pie.
“I understand that she did what she thought was best for you.”
“And you only got an annual Christmas photo?”
She shrugs. “I understood.”
“Why did my mom leave Westdale?”
Her fork stops halfway to her mouth.
I lean back in my chair. “Everyone thinks my parents left when she got pregnant. That makes sense. Teenage girl from a wealthy, possibly conservative family.”
“Um-hmm,” she says around her mouthful.
“You suggested it yourself, but you knew it wasn’t the truth. I was born in May, Cecilia. Westdale ends the beginning of June, which means there is no way Mom dropped out early because of me.”
“I…was asked to perpetuate a misunderstanding.”
“By my grandparents.”
“No, by your mom.” A long pause. Then she sets down her fork. “She messaged me after learning she was pregnant.”
“So my parents left and then Mom got pregnant and wanted you to tell people that’s why she left?”
“Your mother dropped out for reasons she did not disclose.” Her gaze meets mine.
“And that is the truth. She left me a note, but no explanation, and I presumed she’d just gotten sick of the bullshit.
But Rose wouldn’t turn eighteen until October, and your grandparents weren’t letting her run off with a—” Cecilia stops short.
“Gardener,” I say. “The point is that my grandparents—among others—objected to the relationship. So…” I look up sharply. “Wait. Did Mom get pregnant so they’d back off? The damage is done, their little girl soiled, any child they have tainted by my dad being a nobody?”
Her expression answers.
“Seriously?” I say. “Did we hit reverse on the last century?”
“Part of the worry would have been that your dad would want money. Having a child with Rose solidified his claim. If your parents were willing to keep running and hiding, that reduced the chance he’d show up with his hand out. As for getting pregnant on purpose, that’s not the story I got.”
“Which was?”
“That it was an accident. They were getting jobs, settling down, worried about your grandparents finding them, and being less than careful with birth control. Your mom had options, though, Lili, and no compunctions about using them. She chose to keep you.”
“Your job was to tell everyone she was pregnant.”
“Yes, and your grandparents seized that as an excuse. No one would know when you were born, so the timing didn’t matter. They could say your mother got pregnant at school and this boy convinced her to run away with him. They disowned her.”
I thump back in my seat. “Disowning? That’s a thing?”
“Legally it just means cutting her from the will. Which they could do because of your uncle.”
I blink. “I have an uncle?”
“You did. He died years ago. Never married, no offspring, which makes you the heir. The way the family business is structured, they could disown Rose and make James the sole heir. But when he died without issue, it reverted to you, and your grandparents can do nothing about that.”
I take a moment, just breathing. “This is a lot.”
“It is,” she says. “But you don’t need to worry about your grandparents.
When your grandmother got sick, they took off to Europe for some miracle cure, and they’ve decided to retire there.
You will graduate Westdale and turn eighteen and begin taking your place in the business, which will make the board very happy. ”
“Who’s running the business now?”
“The board. Which is fine—they’re very competent—but they’d really like a Chamberlain in charge.”
“In charge? Or as a figurehead?”
She smiles. “Does it matter? You can get your foot in that door, learn the ropes, and then throw it open and storm the castle. The fact they want you means that door is open, with the red carpet rolled out. Forget your grandparents and how they treated your mom. This is your revenge. Let them just grow old in Europe. Your grandmother has terminal cancer. Your grandfather is seventy-eight—he married later in life.”
In short, I won’t need to worry about my grandparents re-entering my life, and after what they did to my mom, I don’t want them to. Cecilia’s right. Let them stay in Europe, enjoying the profits of a family business, while taking no interest in that business—or me.
“Is it possible to get the list of the charities that were supposed to inherit in my place? I know I can’t do much to help now, but I’d like it. I want to make it up to them someday.”
She smiles, as if I’ve said the right thing, then takes out her phone and hits buttons. “Done.”
“Thank you. About my mom…She’d hate me being at Westdale, wouldn’t she.”
Cecilia makes a face. “Yeah, she would, and if I could have stopped it, I would have. But you’re seventeen and your grandparents insisted. I can guarantee you that you’re safe. I’m making sure of that.”
“I still feel bad that you’re stuck in Savannah.”
“I like Savannah. It was a good time for a change. I recently ended a long-term relationship and was in need of fresh scenery. And I go home most weekends to visit my parents and friends.”
I suspect she’s putting a good face on a bad situation. Whatever the truth, she’s placed her life on hold for me, and I hope I never forget that.