While she finishes my hair, I silently put on my concealer to hide the dark circles under my eyes, sweep on a little eyeshadow, blush, and mascara until my mother tips her chin in approval. I gloss my lips with a pink sheen and glance at my appearance.
In the mirror is the same sullen girl I saw the other night, only this one is prettier, wearing a mask to hide the sadness for another day while her parents give money to charity.
“You’ll appreciate this event, Honor. It’s for the Suicide Awareness Foundation of California. Our last donation of five million dollars funded a new suicide hotline to be opened in the Bay Area. I thought you might like that.”
My mouth is dry when I try to speak, emotion clouding the words I want to say. “That’s…really wonderful, Mother. I love it. Hannon would love it.” Tears fill my eyes, and I sniff them back.
“Oh, pish posh. Don’t mess up your makeup. You’re finally starting to look alive. Besides, don’t think too much of it. We have to be mindful of the scandal your brother left us with. Our PR specialist said this was the best way to do that.”
PR specialist.
Scandal.
A renewed sense of loss collides with my stomach like being punched. “You’re donating to charity as a PR spin on Hannon’s death?” I gasp and swallow down the bile lurching up my throat.
Mother, oblivious to the torment I’m experiencing inside, carries on with her plan as if she’s done and said nothing wrong.
“What kind of monster does this?” I gasp.
She turns on her perfect Jimmy Choos and narrows her gaze before storming to my side. She swings her hand back and then forward. She slaps me. Hard.
A blast of heat blazes across my cheek. I hold the tender side of my face as her ire burns against my palm.
“Don’t you ever talk to me like that again. I raised you better. Now, freshen up. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes. I want you nothing but smiles as we give the society pages a photo opportunity that will leave all that your brother brought down on us behind us for good. You don’t know this, but your father is planning to run for office.”
“What!?” I blurt once again, not being the lady she expects me to be. I stand up quickly, making sure I’m not in striking range. It’s been a while since my mother put her hands on me but not so long that I’ve forgotten how to run.
My mother flattens her hand over her hair and then down her skirt, making sure everything is in place. “Your father’s going to announce in the coming weeks that he’s running for governor of California. Get that hack of a liberal Democrat out of office and back on his farm in the Valley. Let a real politician take care of the state from now on.”
Oh no. Poor California. Maybe I should move. Once the idea forms, a seed is planted. I only hope I have the power to go through with it.
“Now, grab your shawl and bag. It’s time to give some money to some suicidal losers.” She straightens her shoulders and marches out of my room.
Suicidal losers.
Hannon.
I close my eyes and send him love and all the good and kindness I have left in me. “I love you, Hannon,” I whisper.
“I’ll always love you, Honor.” I imagine his voice in my head as I grab my things and follow my family to an event where they will be honored for being generous, when in reality they are just politicking and using their dead son to do it.
I make it as far as the meal before I’m rushing to the ladies’ room, where I vomit up the rubbery chicken and the two glasses of champagne I was able to force down during my parents’ award acceptance.
“Hello, Dr. Hart.” I enter and sit down in my usual spot across from her leather chair.
“You can call me Monet, you know. I’ve told you that every time you’ve come over the last two months.”
“Okay. Thank you, Monet.”
My doctor smiles, and I can’t help but think how genuinely beautiful she is. Makes me wonder how a rich woman can be so happy. In my experience, people with money are all unhappy. I glance over at her desk. On the corner is a picture of a handsome, blond-haired, blue-eyed hunk holding a little Asian girl with her mother’s coloring on his shoulders. Ah, that’s why. Sexy husband would do it.
“Is that your husband and daughter?”
Dr. Hart’s gaze goes to the picture on her desk. “Yes.”
“They look happy.” I grab a lock of my hair and pick at the split ends.
“We are. Are you happy, Honor?” She asks the loaded question, and I finally decide that if I’m not going to tell her everything, there’s no reason to come.
“No. I haven’t been happy in a long time. More than that, I don’t know if there was a time when I was truly happy. When Hannon was alive, I found moments of joy, but only if we were alone. Now I have nothing.”
“Okay, let’s start there. What do you like to do?”
I shrug. “I don’t do anything. All of my time is
