And it had worked.
Hindsight is a gift and a curse. I wish I could look back on my childhood and remember only the lavish birthday parties and over-the-top holidays, but the sounds of empty bottles breaking and screamed arguments overshadows those memories. I can’t summon one happy moment without being inundated by a thousand that broke my heart. That’s the truth behind Windfall’s name. It wasn’t built by good fortune. It was built on cruelty.
But despite that, I’m still standing in front of the closed doors to my father’s study, dutifully wearing black and playing the part of the good daughter in mourning over her beloved father. I pretend my world isn’t composed of egg shells that leave me terrified to make a move. But I know it’s more fragile than glass and any moment, something—or someone—will shatter it.
Ginny joins me without a word. I force a smile even though she’s dressed for a business meeting in a white blouse, collar turned up at the neck, and high-waisted, electric blue pants that are so tight they’re like a second skin. My niece is off with a nanny. It’s her mother’s job to see to both their fortunes. Actually, Ginny is going to work by her standards. Being married to my brother, planning his future Senate run, and hanging delicately off his shoulder is a full-time job. People often assume we’re actual sisters with our red hair and pale skin. She may not be a MacLaine by blood but sometimes I think she’s more suited to it than I am.
“That color washes you out,” she informs me, fiddling with the clasp of her gold tennis bracelet.
“Black?” I say flatly. “We’re in mourning, remember?”
“And what a spectacular show you’re making of it. I commend you,” she says, “but let’s not pretend you didn’t hate your father.”
“I didn’t.” I don’t know why I’m defending myself to her. Ginny can believe what she wants. She knows more about this family than most, but she never understood that I loved my father nearly as much as I disliked him.
“I guess we’ll find out if he loved you soon enough.” She returns her attention to the closed doors.
I bite back a half-dozen sarcastic responses, knowing that if my brother inherits Windfall, it will be up to her if I’m allowed to stay. She’s wanted me gone for years, ever since things fell apart between us. She hates that I stayed when she wanted me to go. She never understood that I didn’t have a choice.
“How long are they going to drag this out?” She checks her phone for the time and sighs as though it’s a huge burden to spend the afternoon inheriting millions.
Malcolm has been holed up inside for the better part of the week, a revolving door of attorneys and accountants coming and going. He must know what’s in the will, even though it hasn’t been unsealed yet. What else could they be discussing? My father groomed him to take over and planned my brother’s run for the state senate. They both had sights on D.C. Surely that meant Malcolm had been privy to my father’s plans for the estate and his assets. That’s what worries me. What need does my brother have to consult so many legal experts? A cocktail of dread and fear churns inside me as I consider the possibility that Malcolm is meeting to discuss me and my inheritance.
I don’t know if I want any of it, but there’s no way that I want my brother to decide that for me.
Felix appears by my side, his grey, striped trousers neatly pressed with a perfect crease running down each leg and brass cufflinks shining on his blazer. He no longer wears the white gloves like when I was a little girl, a concession to my insistence that he modernize a little. Today, though, it’s a comforting sight to see him dressed in his butler’s uniform.
“Miss MacLaine, how are you feeling this morning?”
I manage a tight smile. When my mother died, I’d gone to Felix for comfort. He’d been by my side when the doctor gave us the news. He’d held me as I cried. This time, I haven’t needed him. Has he noticed my lack of tears? What does he think of me?
I force myself to answer him, aware that Ginny is eavesdropping. “Tired.”
“Maybe you should get her some coffee,” she suggests.
Felix shifts uncomfortably on his feet. “Actually, I was asked to attend the reading.”
“Of course.” Ginny shakes her head. “Angus won’t have left you out. You’re part of this family.”
My eyes dart to Felix, who doesn’t look convinced. Ginny is right. The man practically raised us. A good man would reward his loyalty.
No one can claim Daddy was a good man.
When the door to my father’s private study finally opens, Harding looks like he hasn’t slept in days. He gestures for me to enter along with Ginny. She barely looks at me as we enter. That’s what I am to her in the presence of others: invisible. It wasn’t always like this. Not when she first started dating Malcolm. I was going to be a bridesmaid in their wedding until they eloped to avoid scandal before Ellie was born. Both our futures looked so different then. Unfortunately, the thing that brought us together—the thing we have in common still—is what drove us apart. It’s what destroyed my mother. It’s what’s kept me here in Valmont. I’m supposed to be proud of my family name. Instead, it hangs like an albatross around my neck—a burden I can never escape. There’s no avoiding the MacLaine family birthright. It’s not something we’re blessed with. It owns us.
My father’s study is a testament to appearance making the man. Oak panels polished daily to maintain their glossy luster
