Chapter2

After the funeral.

Harold’s label for Grace shifted from "distant cousin" to simply "Grace." Then, over breakfast one morning, he called her "darling." The cup in my hand paused, but I didn't look up.

Lex slid his fried eggs onto my plate, acting as though he hadn't heard a thing.

A month later, I turned eighteen.

On my birthday, Grace prepared a lavish spread, and Harold popped a bottle of champagne. I sat at the dining table, staring at Grace occupying the space that rightfully belonged to my mother. My stomach churned.

"Happy birthday, Cecilia." Grace extended a gift box toward me.

I didn't reach for it. Lex intercepted it on my behalf, murmuring a polite "Thank you."

His own gift to me was a silver necklace, its pendant a tiny star.

"I'll protect you from now on," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

As I took it, my fingertips brushed the back of his hand, and I flinched back. I kept my head down, pretending to fidget with the necklace, my ears burning. I knew it was wrong. He was my brother. My blood.

But a racing heart has a mind of its own.

Back in my room after dinner, a few sips of champagne had left my head pleasantly dizzy. I yanked open my drawer, pulled out my diary, flipped to a fresh page, and scribbled a single line:

I want to marry Lex.

I stared at the words for a few seconds when I finished, then snapped the book shut and shoved it back into the drawer. I went to take a shower. The water was scalding. I told myself it was just dependence. It wasn't love.

I stayed in the bathroom for about twenty minutes. When I stepped out, Victoria was standing right in front of my vanity.

"Celia, your hair clip is gorgeous. Let me borrow it," she said, flashing me a smile as she waved a butterfly clip in her hand.

I didn't overthink it and told her to go ahead. She wished me a good night on her way out, pulling the door shut behind her.

First thing the next morning, Harold summoned me to his study.

My diary lay wide open on his desk. The page was dog-eared, the sentence brutally circled in red ink.

"What is this?" he asked.

"I... I just wrote it without thinking."

"Without thinking?" He slammed the book shut and slapped the desk. It wasn’t a heavy blow, but the teacup rattled anyway. "He is your biological brother. You know exactly what this implies."

My tears spilled over. I couldn't utter a word.

The heavy oak door opened. Victoria walked in, her eyes rimmed with red.

"Celia, I've always treated you like a little sister." Her voice trembled. "If you love Lex, I can step aside... But you two are siblings. This is wrong, don't you know that?"

She cried, wiping her tears delicately with the back of her hand. She looked beautiful even when she wept.

But I noticed she hadn't knocked before walking in.

And the dress she was wearing today was the exact same one she had on when she borrowed my hair clip last night. She had never gone home.

"I don't like him anymore," I said, shaking my head violently. "I swear I don't."

"Too late." Harold picked up the desk phone. "Tell your brother to come in."

When Lex walked in, all the color had drained from his face. He glanced at the diary, then looked at me. In that single look, there was agony and heartache, but absolutely no disgust.

"I'll handle it," he said quietly.

"Of course you will." Harold leaned back into his chair. "First, you get engaged to Victoria this Wednesday. Second, you send your sister to Switzerland. I've already contacted a school."

"What school?"

"The Prudence Academy. They specialize in correcting this kind of... issue."

"Dad—"

"You don't have a choice." Harold's gaze slid right past me. His voice wasn't loud, but every word hit like a nail. "If you don't comply, she might just suffer an 'accident.' Your mother's 'accident' serves as a perfect precedent. Since I pulled it off once, I'm not afraid to do it again."

The air in the room froze solid.

Lex's fists clenched so tight his knuckles popped.

I lunged forward and grabbed his sleeve. "Lex, what is he talking about? What happened to Mom?"

He didn't answer me. He just kept his eyes locked on Harold, and deep within that stare, something irreparably shattered.

"I agree." The words sounded like they were crushed out from the deepest pit of his throat. "But Celia remains untouched. Not a single hair on her head gets harmed."

"Naturally." Harold offered a faint, chilling smile. "She is my daughter, after all."

Three days later, the engagement hit the papers. News of the alliance between the Astor and Wentworth families spread like wildfire. In interviews, Victoria declared herself "blissfully happy." Lex didn't smile once.

That same day, my passport and a plane ticket were delivered to my room. Departure was set for the following Monday.

At the dinner table, Harold spoke up, "The school is in Switzerland. Splendid environment. Go learn some manners, and you can come back in a couple of years."

I stayed completely silent. Grace, sitting next to him, placed a portion of food onto my plate.

On the eve of my departure, Lex came to my room. He stood in the doorway, refusing to cross the threshold.

"I'm sending you away to study," he said. "Apply yourself. When you come back... we’ll still be a good brother and sister."

I dropped to my knees, clawing at the hem of his jacket. My tears splattered directly onto his shoes. "Do you hate me now? With Mom gone... are you throwing me away too?"

He crouched down and pried my fingers loose, one agonizing digit at a time. His hands were shaking, but he never let me see his face.

"No," he said, turning his head away. "Be a good girl."

On the morning I got into the car, I looked back. Lex stood at the second-floor window, one hand pressed flat against the pane. I waved, but he remained perfectly still.

As the car turned the corner, I saw him pull the curtains shut.

I pressed my forehead against the car window, my own shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

I reached up to touch the silver star resting at my neck, whispering a silent vow in my heart:

Lex, you have to wait for me.