Forty-Nine
WHAT A LOVELY LITTLE FAMILY REUNION,” MIA DRAWLS.
She walks into the space as if it’s hers, or it will be one day. Of course she does. The leverage she’s just gotten could destroy me.
“You have seconds to put those away before security arrives,” she informs me. “I’m not going to let you drop them in the ocean like you were obviously intending. If, however, you’d like to zip up your discount-rack clutch, now would be the time,” she says with flippant impatience.
“Why would security come in here?” Tom inquires. I have to laud him for the disaffected lack of panic in his voice.
It delights Mia. She flashes him a sharp smile. “Because I’m having Finn tip them off about suspicious activity in here as we speak.” Her innocent delivery sparkles like fake diamonds. She’s playing with us. Mocking us.
I zip the clutch slowly, watching her. While I intend to project confidence, I doubt I’m mustering anything except surprise. Mia strides farther into the room. In the clicking of her heels on the wood, I hear clock hands and courtroom gavels.
“I know you’re the one who opened the safe that’s caused all this commotion,” Mia continues. “I’m half impressed, honestly. Up until now, I wasn’t even convinced you were really an Owens.” She gives me the same smile, her voice playful as if we’re gossiping. As if her insinuation of my family inauthenticity is the kind of joke one might exchange over lunch in the cafeteria. “I wouldn’t even really care, except I’m not getting in trouble for your sloppiness. If you want to live up to our name, you’re going to have to do better in the future.”
I’m stunned. Nothing she’s saying makes sense. I’m not getting in trouble? In trouble for what? How does Mia know I opened the safe?
How does opening it make me an Owens?
Right on cue, security enters, flashlights on. Their harsh floodlights fill the room, sweeping every dark corner. Past the rushing in my ears, the water has started to sound restless. “Hey, you can’t be in here until you’ve been searched and cleared. Return to the tent, please,” the guard in front orders us. He holds the door open, waiting for us to file out. I’m faintly grateful for our youth—despite how suspicious we’re acting in the middle of the security crisis, the guards are disposed to write us off, presuming we’re smoking or hooking up instead of literally in the middle of a heist.
As we leave, I’m conscious of my every step away from the concealing ocean. The clutch in my hand makes my fingers sweat.
I find myself next to Mia on the incline returning up to the party. With her words circling in my head, I say quietly what I’ve figured out. “You have something you don’t want security to find, either.”
With the guards still searching the boathouse behind us, Mia smiles once again. It’s remarkable how many different flavors of insult her pleasant expression can hide. I wonder if they have classes on the subject in Switzerland.
“You know,” she begins, “I was surprised how opulent this wedding is. Especially since the trust has run out.”
I whip to face her, then hide my startled reaction in embarrassment. Everything she’s saying fits into place, pieces of the puzzle I didn’t know existed to solve until today. The debts. The trust. The prenup. But there was clearly money in Dash’s personal account. Otherwise, Cass couldn’t have made the transfer.
I don’t know what it all means. Despite the pieces in place, the picture eludes me.
Mia doesn’t overlook my—okay, incredibly obvious—surprise. “You didn’t know,” she says, realizing. Enjoying herself immensely, she nods. “I suppose not, what with your unfortunate living circumstances.”
While I grit my teeth, wanting to extract further information from Mia, her words explode indignant fury in me. It’s the way she says unfortunate. Yes, my mom’s debts stress me out. Yes, the reasons for our living situation were painful. Unfortunate, however, disregards everything my mom has done for me and every joy we’ve found in our new life. Mia doesn’t get to call ice cream movie nights, Saturday-morning Eggos while we do the crossword, and my weird, wonderful room unfortunate.
We’ve arrived back at the tent, where security is making their way from table to table, searching the guests. “Look,” Mia says more seriously, “what I don’t want the guards to find doesn’t concern you.”
She opens her purse, pulls out her lipstick, and reapplies. I don’t know why—her lips look perfect—until I notice the flash of silver inside her bag. The crossed-dagger cuff links.
“They should have been my dad’s. It was in the will,” she says softly. “Dash kept them instead.”
I meet Mia’s eyes, frankly shocked to recognize the grim resolve in them. Everyone in the Owens family has been reduced in my head to fortunate villains, caricatures of wealthy cruelty. It’s funny to stumble into reminders that my relatives have their own wounds, losses, and regrets. Even so, her choice of vengeance leaves me with questions.
“You’re sneaking around a house full of diamonds and secrets,” I say, remembering the necklace I was forced to lend Maureen. How young Mia had listened with visible jealousy at the will reading. “And you’re here for… cuff links?”
Mia frowns. “I’m here for the piece of the legacy we’re owed. The cuff links were my family’s in the will, and I’m not giving up what’s supposed to be ours. As for the rest”—she shrugs—“what claim do I have to what’s yours? Honor among… among whatever we are, I guess.” She chuckles. “Honor among us.”
Mia, my cunning, moral cousin.“I don’t understand wanting this family’s legacy,” I say finally. “I do understand wanting what you deserve.”
She grimaces stiffly, the closest to commiseration I imagine we’ll ever get. “Your table is set to be searched first,” she informs me. “The search better be over before they get to mine.”
Her parting glance is a favor wrapped in a warning. She could have given me up in the boathouse—it would have ended the search, and she wouldn’t have been caught. The fact that she didn’t was… an unexpected kindness from my cruel cousin. Instead, she’s telling me to find a way to end this search so neither of us have to be caught.
However, if it comes down to it, she’s made plenty sure I will go down before she does.
“Your former stepmom. Your cousin. You,” Tom says next to me, his eyes following Mia with more interest than I’d like. “I’m starting to think everyone in your family came here to steal something tonight.”
I can’t help following his eyeline to Mia as she returns to the Swiss family table. She sits. It would be imperceptible to those who aren’t looking. I’m looking, though. Everyone at the table exchanges glances. Mia nods.
Like the leader of her own crew, I realize.
My cousin’s words come back to me. Up until now, I wasn’t even convinced you were really an Owens.
I’m not sure what I’m the heiress to anymore. A dried-up fortune? Or a legacy of thieves?