“Am I supposed to just leave you in here?”
“Yes, now go.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Ethan gets it from you.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said, getting out of the car as if she were not there, locking the doors as I normally would before walking toward the elevators. I had no idea how she’d get out. But then again, I didn’t know how she had gotten in.
That was what Ethan had gotten from her—the ability to keep secrets and do the impossible.
4
“Childhood is a long, long road,
from which that dark, whispering forest of death
seems an impossible destination.”
~Lauren DeStefano
ETHAN
“But Mommy said so!” Gigi huffed angrily at me, not at all pleased that I was the one helping her get ready today. She had refused when the maids came, saying she was going to wait for her mother. Even my grandmother said she’d help her, but Gigi was adamant that the only person she wanted was Calliope. The only problem with that was her mother was still in bed.
“Gigi,” I said, kneeling in front of her. “Mommy is a little sick. She needs her rest. I know you are excited about your school play, but don’t you want Mommy to get better?”
She frowned, crossing her arms. “Mommy never gets sick, Papa.”
“Well, she is now—”
“Then I want to see her. Now!” she ordered.
My eyebrow rose at the change in her tone of voice. Was she copying her mother? Or me? Okay. Fine. “I do not care what you want,” I said as well, standing taller.
Her mouth dropped open like she had not expected that. “Papa, you do not say no.”
Apparently, I’d spoiled her too much.
“You see how things change? I said no. So, go put on your costume so you are not late. Now!”
Gigi pouted, hugging my legs, and I stared down at her blankly. Slowly her pout fell, and she released my legs as she turned and headed back into her closet. I shook my head, watching her go. She really was something. Over the last year, watching her grow and change was both amusing and trying. Apparently, she was in the testing-boundaries phase again. She was the little princess of the castle, and she knew it.
“It’s good you put your foot down now,” my grandmother said as she slowly walked inside.
That was another thing changing—watching my daughter get more and more energetic as my grandmother became less so. It wasn’t drastic; it wasn’t even as if she were on death’s doorstep. It was just noticeable. “Your father had the hardest time doing so with your sister.”
“I remember,” I replied.
“How is Calliope?” she questioned softly. “Rumors are circling the house already since she did not have her morning meeting with the staff.”
“She misses one day and they act as if she’s on her death bed,” I grumbled.
Ever since she’d taken over, Calliope had made sure to start the morning with a briefing with the staff by setting the agenda for the day, reviewing the previous day, applauding some, and correcting others. It was as if they were in the military. She didn’t need to do all of that, and yet she insisted.
“The staff like her. They are worried because it is unlike her to be absent,” she reassured me.
“Are you sure they like her? Or are they pretending to?” I questioned, feeling the annoyance in me rise again. “I can’t see who is loyal or not anymore.”