“You know if he claims them, if they become the official heirs and property of John Walsh,” I say, twirling my teaspoon between my fingers, “that I’ll never see them again. Never ever.” Victor nods. “I know. I’m not going to let that happen, Evelyn.” And then, he reaches over, placing his hand over
“I won’t,” he says, and his face is so earnest, so honest, that I can’t help but smile. Seeing my reaction, his mouth slowly begins to twist upward. “So,” he says. “Shall we tell the boys?” “Tell us what!?” Ian says, his head appearing suddenly where the ceiling meets the stairs. “Ian,” I say, my
Six days later, Victor’s house is in complete chaos. The boys and I enter the kitchen door to a flurry of action – Betas everywhere, of course – some on guard, some carrying boxes and taking instructions. Then, there are a bevy of hired persons hanging lights in the back yard, decorations in the ho
I turn on my heel and stalk to their dining room. “What are you doing?” Amelia calls after me, a little panic in her voice. I can hear Victor following me behind, his footsteps measured and curious. In the room, I wrap my hands in two fists worth of fine linen-and-lace tablecloth, an heirloom, I kn
The day of the claiming dawns bright and clear. I am almost woozy with lack of sleep, having spent the whole night – as promised – tearing apart Amelia’s table cloth and making it into something new. I caught a few hours of sleep, just before dawn, but now I’m up, showered, and ready to face the da
“Thank you for coming.” Annabeth Prath steps out into the middle of the circle, dressed in a gorgeous white pantsuit. I was pleased when Victor told me that she would be running the ceremony – she’s important for him, politically, and I personally quite like her politics. “Today we are blessed to b
As I keep one eye on Annabeth, I notice the a number of Betas in black escorting the members of the press away from the circle. They protest, clearly desiring to stay, but they are firmly escorted back to the pool for refreshments. Annabeth beckons Victor forward again and he stands at her side. “T
“You would have refused, Evelyn!” Victor yells, slamming my kitchen door behind him as he stalks into the room behind me. We just spent the last half-hour shaking hands and smiling at people’s congratulations. I kissed my boys, laughed at Willard’s jokes about surprises, smiled for pictures, all th