He nodded, looking as though he hadn't considered it.
“You're right. My dad isn't the sort to give up so easily. Even if we do keep our stores, he'll come up with some other scheme to get us off the land. I wouldn't put it past him to burn the buildings down.”
“Great. So then what do we do?”
“The wedding's a week away. Macy's already helped send out the invitations to our half, and if there's one thing dad hates more than losing, it's embarrassing the ever-precious Carrington name.”
He paced around the tiny room, only stopping to stare out the window.
“I say we stall for time. Make him think I'll agree to his deal, only until we find evidence of this alleged scandal. If Hazel's part of this, maybe you could ask her for details.”
“Somehow, I think she won't be eager to discuss her sordid affair with a married man.”
“It's all we have to go on, so just do it. I'll tell dad that I'll sign the contract if he lets you keep your shop, under the pretense that he can build around it.”
“What if he says no?”
“If he really wants us not to marry that badly, he won't. That just gives me more gas for the fire.”
All of this was too much drama for me. At least it would be over in one week's time, one way or another.
The doorbell sounded again. Asher gestured for me to take the customer and followed me out. When I reached the register, though, I found my aunt Emma talking softly with Lana.
“I brought you a sandwich for lunch,” she said, placing a brown bag on the counter. “You're always so busy that you forget to eat. It's not much, just bologna and tomato, but at least you won't be hungry.”
Asher's brow furrowed as he watched them. Then he looked at me, and I realized I should probably introduce Emma to my future “husband.”
“Oh, mom, please. You treat me like a little kid.”
“Because you'll always be my baby, you know. Anyway, I didn't come just for this. There's a problem with Elias.”
“Problem?”
“The foster family can't keep him anymore, and the orphanage he came from is full,” she murmured. “Which means he'll have nowhere else to go.”
“So what, are they just going to dump him on the streets?”
“This is a third-world country, Lana. War-stricken, poor and starving people everywhere you look. To them, children are only a burden.”
Lana scowled. “Isn't there anything we can do? Dig into savings, or take out a loan? Anything?”
“We've done all we can for now. I know you kids have worked incredibly hard.”
She tried not to cry. I watched them, chest aching, unable to stop thinking how this was partially my fault. Maybe if I hadn't begged Lana to stay and work with me, she'd have found a better job. Then they'd have enough money to bring Elias here.
Why did I have to be so selfish?
They finally seemed to notice us standing there. Emma turned to Asher with a polite smile.
“Hello there. You're Asher, aren't you? Lana's told me all about you.”
He eyed Lana warily. “The good parts, I hope.”
“You bet. Oh, Sarah, I saw where you're having the ceremony. The Belogio cathedral is breathtaking. So generous of the Carringtons to pitch in like they are.”
I blinked, confused. “Huh? I told Cole to book it at that little Unitarian chapel.”
“Mom.” Asher groaned. “She told me that was impossible with the hundreds of guests coming in. I bet she made the reservation herself.”
How could she just do that? Wasn't this supposed to be my wedding – fake or not?
I stewed over it until Emma left, then Asher and I went outside. He still had that weird look on his face.
“What's gotten into you?”
“It's Emma.” He swallowed hard. “She looks a lot like my grandpa Charles did in his old pictures.”
I was about to ask why that mattered, but then I understood.
“No,” I muttered. “That can't be. There's nothing really unique about her, and lots of people look like she does. It's just a coincidence.”
“Yeah. I'm sure you're right.”
But he had a distant look in his eyes, and I knew he didn't believe it. Even though I wanted to, we couldn't ignore what might be the truth.
What were we going to do if Asher's grandpa was my aunt's father?
Chapter 19 - Asher
“You've gotta be shitting me.”
Macy stopped slurping her iced coffee through the straw and looked at me with horror. I shifted uncomfortably in the cracked vinyl seat across from her. This was not a discussion I'd looked forward to having.
“I wish I were, but I'm dead serious. Soon as I saw Emma, I got this weird flashback. It was like looking at an old picture of Charles.”
I didn't have those photos anymore; there were very few of them, from what I remembered. I'd been playing in the attic one day as a child and found a dusty old shoebox full of pictures. His was among them.
When mom caught me looking at them, she seemed angry for reasons I couldn't figure out. The photos disappeared after that.
“They had the same brown eyes, thin lips, and facial structure,” I explained. “And jet-black hair, like he did. That's pretty interesting given that everyone in the Masters family is either brunette or dirty blonde.”
Macy remained doubtful. “It's got to be a coincidence. The odds of that are – ”
“Think about it. Why else would mom and dad be so against this wedding? It's not Sarah who they loathe.”
She stirred the whipped cream in her cup in silence. If this
