Chapter 14
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Grace
With a heavy sigh, I let the flat door fall shut behind me, then kicked off my shoes and exhaled in relief. I was looking forward to finally putting my feet up after this long day.
There had been a complete power outage at The Darlington that day.
I had no idea what had caused it, but we’d been without electricity for hours, making it impossible for me to do my job.
Instead, I’d spent my shift trying to calm the guests.
And once the power had come back on, the rooms still had to be cleaned.
“Grace?” my mum called from the kitchen.
“Yeah, I had to work overtime today.” I stopped short when I realised my mum wasn’t alone. My dad and Jason sat at the set table, while my mum added the finishing touches to her cooking. It looked like I wasn’t the only one running behind schedule today.
A wave of longing swept over me. Last year, I would have sat down with them without a second thought. I would have told them about the power outage and how some of the guests had kicked up a fuss. But that ease had vanished with Amy’s death.
Jason was glued to his phone. My dad at least managed to hold my gaze for two seconds before looking over at my mum, who had her back to us. Preparing dinner was the perfect excuse to not have to look at me. Until now, I had never hated with such intensity how I looked—like Amy.
“I guess I’ll just head to my room,” I said tightly.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
Right on cue, my stomach growled so loudly that everyone heard it. Jason even let out a quiet laugh. “I am, but I want to shower first,” I said, in an attempt to excuse myself. “It was a long day.”
“That shouldn’t take long,” my dad replied. “We can wait until you’re done.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“We haven’t had dinner together in ages.
” My dad didn’t let up, which made me both happy and sad.
I just wanted to go to my room—or better yet, to Amy’s room—and be alone.
It was easier to ignore how strange things had become between me and my family if I wasn’t forced to confront it.
But when I looked at my dad, I could see that there was no getting out of this—not without trampling all over his heart, which had already been broken by Amy’s death. And I couldn’t do that.
“OK. I’ll be right back,” I said, and went to my room. I didn’t know if I should rush to get dinner out of the way, or put it off as long as I possibly could. In the end, I opted for the first option. Why prolong the inevitable?
I took a pair of black leggings and the pink “Taylor Swift Eras Tour” hoodie Amy had given me last year from the wardrobe and went into the bathroom.
Under the warm stream of the shower, I tried to muster some courage, reminding myself of Ethan’s words: Things couldn’t stay this dark forever.
It would get better, and my family would learn to accept that I was the spitting image of Amy.
Because there was no changing that, not unless I forked out several thousand pounds for a decent plastic surgeon.
Ten minutes later, I returned to the kitchen with wet hair and fluffy socks. My mum had joined my dad and Jason at the table, but when she saw me, she leapt up to fetch the pots from the stove.
I sank into my chair. The place to my left remained empty.
“As luck would have it, we’re having your favourite tonight,” my mum said, setting down the first of the two pots.
Her words made my stomach growl again, and my mouth watered.
My mum made the best meatballs. I lifted the lid—and froze.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, setting down the second pot.
I dropped the lid back down on what I now saw was a pot of curry. Not only had my appetite instantly vanished, but I felt a bit nauseous. “That’s Amy’s favourite dinner. Not mine.”
My mum’s face tightened. “I’m sorry. I must have got that mixed up.”
I grunted but said nothing, because it was ridiculous how much that hurt.
Amy and I had often been mistaken for each other, but never by our parents.
They had always made an effort not to mix us up so we wouldn’t feel interchangeable.
And now that Amy was gone, it had happened to my mum for the first time since I could remember.
“I’ll make you meatballs tomorrow,” she promised.
I nodded and helped myself to a small portion of rice and curry.
Jason and my dad exchanged a brief look across the table before serving themselves too.
My mum didn’t move, and I could see the tears shining in her eyes.
But I knew they weren’t for me—they were for Amy, who couldn’t be here to share her favourite meal with us.
After a few moments, my dad reached for my mum’s plate and served her a portion.
“How was work today?” he asked, turning to me.
“There was a big power outage.”
“We didn’t have one here,” my mum said, taking a tiny bite.
“It was just at the hotel.”
My dad grunted. “Probably something wrong with the distributor.”
I gave a clueless shrug. Silence settled over the table for a moment. My wordless replies were hardly helping the conversation along.
Then my dad turned to Jason. “How about school?”
“Good,” Jason replied with his mouth full.
Our dad didn’t let it go. “And how’s it going with Tamil?”
Jason nearly choked on his curry in shock.
Dad laughed. “Good, then.”
Coughing, Jason reached for his glass of water, glaring at our dad. But his anger didn’t last long. Suddenly, he looked sheepish. “Yeah, well . . . we were thinking of going to the cinema together at the weekend. Can I?”
“Oh, a date!” My dad grinned, delighted, which struck me as a little hypocritical considering how he’d reacted the first time I went out with a boy. Back then, he’d been anything but delighted. “Did you hear that, love? Our little boy is going on his first date at the weekend.”
“Yes. It’s incredible. You’ve grown up so fast.”
Jason blushed even redder, but beneath his embarrassment, there was pride. He was fifteen, a teenager, and eager to shed everything that still marked him as a child.
“Speaking of being grown-up . . .”
“We’re not buying you alcohol for your date.”
“No, Dad! That’s not what I wanted to say.
It’s about my room.” Jason pushed the food around his plate nervously with his fork.
“You know how much I’ve complained about my room being too small.
Especially now, with that new keyboard you got me for Christmas.
So I was wondering if I could maybe have Amy’s old room. ”
“No way,” I burst out. What a question!
Jason glanced at me. “Why not? She doesn’t need it anymore.”
“Because it’s her room. Where would we put all her things?”
“We could donate them,” my dad suggested.
“What?!” I stared at him in disbelief. He couldn’t be serious. I couldn’t believe it. It felt like I’d entered another universe—or run straight into one of my nightmares. “Please tell me that was a joke.”
My dad reached across the table and laid a comforting hand on my trembling fingers, giving me a soothing smile. “I know this isn’t easy for you, but Amy is gone, sweetheart. She’s not coming back, and this way, we’d finally have a living room again.”
I tore my hand away so violently that my elbow whacked into the back of the chair. Pain flared up, but it was nothing compared to the stab of betrayal in my chest. “You’re putting your own comfort above the memory of Amy? What kind of shitty parents do that?”
My mum began to cry, and tears welled up in my eyes too.
“No, of course not,” my dad said. “But what else do you suggest?”
“That you leave Amy’s room as it is!”
“Grace, we can’t leave it empty forever.”
I couldn’t believe it. They didn’t get it.
They really didn’t get it. It wasn’t about leaving it as it was forever.
I’d never expected they would. But Amy hadn’t even been dead for three months.
Her spirit was still in that room. It was a reminder of her life.
Unlike her grave, which reminded us only of her death.
I wasn’t ready to let go of her life, and I couldn’t understand how Jason and my parents could be.
I pushed my chair back with a scrape and stood up. “Don’t touch Amy’s things. If I find out that even a single item is missing, I’ll never forgive you. Never!” I hissed, and marched towards the front door.
I was too angry and upset to spend another minute under the same roof as my family.
My eyes burned, and I felt like I was about to throw up the tiny bit of curry I’d eaten.
The whole evening had been a disaster from beginning to end, and I wished I’d never agreed to eat with them.
I slipped into my boots, grabbed Amy’s coat, and let the door slam shut behind me.