Chapter 3
Three
The dining room is easy to find on the first floor. Just follow the sound of clinking silverware in the mostly empty house.
Miranda sits at the head of a twelve-seater table, looking elegant in a silk blouse, and picking delicately at a plate of glazed salmon and charred asparagus. She looks up when I enter, and her face breaks into the same practiced smile as earlier.
“Alice! There you are, darling. Come, sit.” She gestures to the chair on her right. “I’m so glad you could join us.”
I press a hand into my feeble stomach as I gingerly make my way over to my assigned seat.
A woman in a black uniform sets a plate in front of me without making eye contact.
Whoa. Miranda has actual staff?
“Thank you, Mrs. Gallagher,” Miranda says, sitting tall with perfect posture.
“You’re welcome, ma’am,” Mrs. Gallagher says, disappearing into the kitchen through two swing doors.
In front of me, the salmon looks perfectly prepared, but my stomach twists at the sight of it.
“I hope you were able to rest,” Miranda says, dabbing her napkin at the corner of her mouth. “I know today has been overwhelming for you.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Stupendous. I want you to feel at home here, Alice. I know it’s different from what you’re used to, but we’ll figure it out together, won’t we?
” She takes a sip of wine from a crystal glass.
“I’ve arranged for you to start at Ashworth Academy on Monday.
It’s an excellent school. I think you’ll thrive there. ”
I nod, not sure what else to do.
“The school has an excellent reputation,” she continues.
“Many students go on to Ivy League universities. I pulled some strings to get your transcripts sent over quickly.” Her eyes gleam.
“Your teachers had nothing but wonderful things to say about you, Alice. Straight A’s, advanced placement courses, academic honors.
They even said you were on track to graduate early.
That’s so impressive when you’re only in your junior year. ”
“Thank you. But I actually stopped focusing on the accelerated path. I wasn’t ready to leave home a year early.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, trying not to dwell on my indestructible bond with my parents.
“You are such a bright girl. Your parents must have been so proud.”
The lump bulges and adds a squeak to my voice. “They were.”
“Of course, they were.” The sympathy dripping from Miranda’s voice doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “And I’m sure they’d want you to continue excelling. Education is so important, don’t you think?”
Before I can respond, Ryder walks into the dining room, looking down at his phone. He’s changed into a fresh black shirt, and has slightly damp hair like he recently showered.
“Ryder!” Miranda’s whole demeanor shifts with warmer animation. “How was practice, darling?”
“Fine,” he says, glancing up. His eyes land on me, and something flickers across his face. Disappointment? Resignation? “Oh.”
Miranda hums a laugh. “Alice, dear. You’re in Ryder’s usual seat.”
“Oh.” It comes out much too loudly, and I hastily stand.
Ryder waves it off and steps to the other side of Miranda. “I’ll take the other side.”
Flustered, I shove the chunky dining chair backward. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll move.”
The thick Persian rug below makes pushing the chair back difficult.
I shimmy out of the space, catching my foot on a chair leg.
I pitch forward and then stumble away from the chair.
Hopping to gain my balance, I trip on the edge of the rug and windmill my arms to stop from falling.
Deep in the throes of mortification, I glimpse a side table and reach for it.
My hand misses the mark, instead swiping a crystal vase filled with white roses.
The vase goes flying, water and flowers exploding across the hardwood floor with a crash that echoes throughout the room. I land on my hands and knees in the middle of the wet mess, and surrounded by broken crystal.
The silence is deafening.
“Oh gosh,” I whisper, scrambling to my knees. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’ll pay for it, I’ll...”
Miranda stands from her seat. “Alice, what were you thinking?”
I’m frantically trying to pick up pieces of crystal when Ryder’s voice cuts through my panic.
“Are you hurt?”
I look up and find him crouched next to me. For a moment, breathing isn’t a natural response. He’s not looking at the broken vase or the mess I’ve made. He’s watching me with something I’d almost call concern. Wow. From this close, his dark eyes seem to have gold flecks in them.
“I’m fine,” I blurt, and then wince as a shard of crystal bites into my palm. “Just clumsy.”
“Let me see.”
Before I can protest, he takes my hand in his, examining the small cut on my palm. His fingers are warm and slightly callused. My brain short-circuits from his gentleness.
“It’s not deep.” His breath dances against my wrist. “But you should clean it.”
“Ryder,” Miranda’s voice is sharp, breaking our spell. “Don’t touch her. Get up before you hurt yourself. You can’t afford anything happening to your hands.”
Ryder drops my hand and stands up, his expression shifting from concerned to carefully neutral.
In an instant, Mrs. Gallagher bustles out of the kitchen and sweeps up my disaster. She then leads me into the kitchen and tends to my wounds. She cleans the cut on my palm with water, rubbing alcohol, and an adhesive bandage. She’s kind about it, but I still feel terrible.
“You can go back into the dining room now,” she says, fixing the cap to the rubbing alcohol.
I lean back against the granite countertop, willing my brain to come up with an excuse.
I really, really, don’t want to go back out there.
“You don’t want your dinner to go cold,” she urges.
I give her a small nod and whisper my thanks.
Hoping I’m invisible, I make my way back into the dining room and to my chair that’s now back in its upright position.
Miranda shakes her head at me. “Why did you try to move when your dinner was already served to you?”
“I… I…” I don’t know. I really don’t know. If I’m being honest, I still have no clue where I am or what I’m doing here. This really can’t be my life. Please let me wake up from a really bad, and really long nightmare.
“Look at her,” Ryder says bluntly. “She looks like a zombie.”
Miranda nods. “Yes. With the travel, it must’ve been a long day for her. Alice, are your hands okay?”
I nod. “Yes, thank you.”
“Good.”
“Now, Ryder,” Miranda says, her tone turning more business-like. “What were you saying? Your practice was fine? Just fine.”
Ryder huffs. “That’s what I said.”
“The showcase is in two weeks. You need to be better than fine.”
Ryder frowns at his plate. “We’re working on it.”
Miranda sighs, setting down her fork. “Ryder, I know you have some... challenges with performing. But the label is watching very closely right now. After the Late Show appearance…”
“I know,” Ryder cuts her off, his voice tight.
“Do you?” Miranda’s tone is pointed. “Because that stumble at the beginning could have cost you everything. You know how these things work. One mistake and they’ll move on to the next act.”
I watch Ryder’s shoulders tense, and his hands grip his silverware a little too hard.
“It won’t happen again,” he says, fighting the shame written across his face.
“I know it won’t, because we’re going to make sure you’re prepared.” Miranda turns her attention to me, her expression softening. “Actually, Alice, this works out perfectly. I wanted to talk to you about something.”
My stomach drops. Oh gosh, what is it? What could she be expecting of me?
“As I mentioned, your academic record is exceptional,” Miranda continues smoothly.
“And Ryder, well, he’s brilliant with music but struggles with some of his coursework.
The label wants him to maintain certain grades and not jeopardise his graduation.
The head of the label is very insistent about this. Ashworth opens a lot of doors.”
Ryder shifts uncomfortably but doesn’t argue.
“I was thinking,” Miranda says, shifting in her seat like she’s going to suggest something fun, like a picnic, “it might be beneficial for both of you if Alice helped with some tutoring. Ryder, you need to keep your grades up while focusing on the band. And Alice, this curriculum is probably a cakewalk for you. You’d be helping Ryder graduate, which will help his career, which ultimately helps all of us.
” She smiles. “Don’t you think that makes sense? ”
The way she phrases it makes my head spin.
“I... I don’t know,” I stammer. “I just got here, and I’m still trying to…”
“Of course, and I completely understand,” Miranda interrupts gently.
“You’ve been through so much. But sometimes the best way to heal is to focus on helping others, don’t you think?
Your parents were such giving people, even before they started their catering business.
I’m sure they’d be proud to see you carrying on that spirit of service. ”
I tense in place at another mention of my parents. Why does she keep doing that? She deliberately didn’t speak to them for twelve years. What is she trying to prove?
“I don’t need a tutor,” Ryder says, his voice flat.
Miranda’s smile doesn’t waver, but her eyes harden slightly as she looks at him.
“Ryder, darling, we’ve been over this. Your chemistry grade is unacceptable, you basically slept through your last calculus exam, and you’re barely passing English.
If you fail either course, you won’t graduate.
And if you don’t graduate...” She lets the threat hang in the air.
“The label will drop me,” Ryder finishes bitterly.