Those words burned, charring her edges with hurt and shame. Her heart began to pound, her pulse rushing loud enough in her ears to drown out Barbra’s comforting beat. She tried to process, to find the right words to explain herself—but the conversation was already racing off without her, a runaway train she’d never been fast enough to catch.
“We have decided,” Mum said, “to cancel your trust fund payments. Whatever savings you have will have to do until you can find a job.”
Savings? Who the bloody hell had savings?
Dad took over. “You can stay here for three months. That should be more than enough time to find a place of your own.”
“Wait—what? You’re throwing me out?”
Mum went on as if Eve hadn’t spoken. “We’ve discussed things, and your father and I would like you to hold down a job for at least a year before we restart your trust fund payments. We know finding decent work might be difficult with such a . . . unique CV, so we’ve lined up positions for you in our own companies.”
Eve jerked back in her seat, her head whirling as she tried to keep up. “But—I already quit law.” And for good reason. Eve had enjoyed law school a disturbing amount, had recognized the warning signs, and had quit before she could sublimate her entire sense of self-worth into her ability to nitpick linguistics around Tort law. She considered that a lucky escape.
Mum’s mouth tightened. “Well, there’s always your father’s accountancy firm.”
Now Eve was truly appalled. “Accountancy? I can barely count!”
Mum narrowed her eyes. “Don’t be flip, Eve.”
“You’re right. I don’t want to count. And I don’t want my parents to hand me a job because I’m too useless to get one on my own. I’m not.”
“No,” Mum agreed, “just too feckless to stick with one. To do the hard work, after the excitement and glamour has faded. Too immature to be an adult. When are you going to grow up, Eve? I swear, it’s embarrassing—”
And there it was. Eve sucked in a breath and blinked back the hot tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. They were more shock than pain, like the tears that came with a banged elbow—but she shouldn’t be shocked at all, now, should she? Of course her parents saw her this way. Of course her parents thought she was an immature little brat. She’d never given anyone a reason to think she was anything else.
“I—I need to go,” she said, standing up quickly, her voice thick with tears. Embarrassing. She was so fucking embarrassing, crying like a baby because her mother had told her the truth, running away from everything because she wasn’t strong enough to cope with the pressure.
“Eve, darling,” Mum began, already sounding softer, full of regret. Next, she’d say, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, and everyone would decide that was enough for today, and the poor, delicate baby of the family would be let off the hook for a while because everyone knew Eve couldn’t handle difficult conversations.
No one in this family had any idea of the shit Eve could handle. No one. And while that wasn’t their fault, she suddenly resented them all for it. Every last one.
“Don’t worry,” she said sharply. “I’ve listened to everything you’ve said, and I’m taking it very seriously. I don’t need you to baby me anymore. I will deal with this on my own, and I will try not to disappoint or—or embarrass you in the process.” But now I need to go before I completely undermine myself by bursting into tears. She turned her back on her stricken parents and bolted.
CHAPTER TWO
It had taken Eve seven attempts to pass her driving test.
She was used to passing tests immediately and without much effort, but driving had proved unexpectedly difficult. Apparently, she had serious spatial awareness problems that had taken four years of weekly lessons to overcome. But driving was one of the few things Eve hadn’t ever given up on, because a license promised the sort of freedom that wouldn’t turn sour.
For example: the freedom to drive fast and aimless down abandoned country roads while blasting music at full volume. Her mood had taken a sharp turn, and Barbra would no longer do.
As she sped past turn after turn that would take her back to the main road—to the city, to her sisters—Eve debated the pros and cons of running to Chloe or Dani for help. What, exactly, would she say? Help, Mum and Dad have cruelly demanded I hold down a job and take on some adult responsibilities? Ha. Chloe, who was hideously blunt and who had overcome more difficulties in her thirty-something years than many people did in a lifetime, would tell Eve outright that she was being a pathetic brat. Dani, who was similarly blunt and absolutely addicted to hard work, had never and would never understand why Eve avoided committing to a profession. Or to anything.
Eve had told her parents she’d handle things herself, and she would. After she finished undoing the instinctive panic caused by this morning’s conversation.
She turned up the music and drove, until the sun faded behind gray clouds and pre-rain mist soaked into her skin through the open windows. It was so safe, in that music-pounding, rain-shielded, ever-moving bubble, that Eve drove for over two hours without even noticing.
Just when she was beginning to feel the first pangs of hunger, she caught sight of a sign that said skybriar: fifteen miles.
“Skybriar,” she murmured over the thrum of cleopatrick’s “hometown.” It sounded like a fairytale. Fairytales meant happily ever after. She took the turn.
Skybriar looked like a fairytale, too. Its main road unraveled down an impressive hill, with woods standing tall on either side of the pavement.
