Crown My Sister? Then You Lose Me

For as long as I could remember, my family had insisted Vivian needed more because I could take more.

The pony I loved.

The occasions meant to celebrate me.

Time with my mother.

If my twin wanted any of it, I was the one expected to go without.

Our induction into the Mafia Family was meant to be the exception.

We were both daughters of Don Moretti.

A crown was supposed to be waiting for each of us.

But Vivian's made-to-order crown glittered with both our diamonds, and the one assigned to me was tarnished, its setting bare.

At the formal dinner, Father had my place card sent to the bottom of the table for not dressing properly—after I had spent my time crossing Manhattan to fetch Vivian's gown.

They assumed I'd give way, just as I always had.

This time, I canceled my part in the ceremony, filled a single suitcase, and took a flight with no return ticket.

When the Moretti Family assembled under its crest, two crowns were waiting.

Only one daughter was prepared to put hers on.

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There were two diamonds in my twin's induction crown. One belonged in mine.

Vivian traced the gold with a fingertip. “Mom, see the sides? They made them into white roses. My favorites.”

Mother clasped her hand. “My little girl should have the finest crown this Family has ever seen. All those people will be looking at you. We won't give them a reason to gossip.”

We were a week from our induction. As Don Moretti's daughters, we were both to be formally presented to the Family, our crowns marking our standing. Mother had devoted weeks to Vivian's design. For me, there was an old piece of tarnished metal with nothing in its central setting.

She understood that people would see the difference. She'd just made that perfectly clear.

Father pressed a kiss to Vivian's forehead. “Once you're inducted, you'll be a crowned Principessa of the Moretti Family. If anyone treats you with disrespect, they'll deal with me.”

The previous week, he'd explained to me that a Moretti woman dealt with her troubles without a fuss. Making complaints brought shame on the family.

From the doorway, I watched Vivian tilt her crown into the light. Our two diamonds shone above her engraved initials.

V.M.

I wanted to ask if Father remembered having another daughter. But I could already hear what they'd say.

“Why does everything have to be a contest with your sister?”

“You know Vivian has always been fragile.”

“Natalie, you're the older sister. You should know better.”

Seven minutes older. Six ounces heavier when we were born. Apparently, that was all it took to make sacrificing things my job.

Grandfather had given me a pony when I was nine. Vivian wanted her, and Mother told me to share. Before a month was out, I needed Vivian's approval to ride the horse that had been given to me.

When I became valedictorian, Vivian cried over the dinner my family held to celebrate. By the next morning, Mother had talked Father into giving her a summer in Paris. She needed “something special just for her.”

Every time, I'd made room. When they announced our induction, I let myself believe we could finally both have something.

Then Vivian decided her crown needed a second diamond. Mother had mine taken out and put into hers.

Vivian slipped her arm through Mother's across the room. “Where's my gown? I have to try it on before dinner.”

Father's capos—the men in charge of his crews—were arriving for the induction. Some had flown in early from abroad, so we were giving a formal welcome dinner that night. Vivian's dress had come from Milan that afternoon and was waiting at the designer's showroom in Manhattan.

Mother turned toward me. “Natalie, pick it up for her.”

I glanced at the time. “If I go now, there won't be time to get myself ready.”

“It doesn't take you long. You always pick something plain. Vivian's dress takes much more work.”

I loved beautiful clothes too. I'd just learned not to say so when Vivian wanted something.

Father was near enough to hear every word. I looked his way. He said nothing.

“Okay,” I said. “I'll go.”

Black SUVs filled the drive by the time I got back. I took the gown up to Vivian, then rushed to my bedroom. I'd showered and only just begun drying my hair when she shouted down the hallway.

“Natalie! Come do my zipper.”

Mother and two attendants were already around her. Vivian faced the mirror in ivory silk, our family's diamonds around her neck.

“It won't move,” she told me. “Zip it up.”

I brought the edges together and pulled.

“That's too tight!”

I let go immediately. Vivian put a hand over her chest. Mother steadied her by the arm.

“I can't get my breath,” Vivian whispered.

“I've stopped,” I said. “I hardly pulled it at all.”

Mother rounded on me. “You know how fragile your sister is. Can't you take a little care?”

“I was helping her.”

“Yet you somehow manage to make everything harder.”

Vivian shut her eyes. Mother fanned her and asked someone to bring water. I moved aside.

The bell announcing dinner sounded as I reached my room. My gown was still zipped into its bag. There was no time to change into it now. I put on a simple black dress and headed down, my hair still damp.

The dining room was packed. On Father's right sat Vivian, wearing the ivory gown I'd brought home. My card was to his left.

I had nearly reached my place when he glanced up.

“You're not sitting here dressed like that.”

I stopped walking. “I ran out of time to change.”

He looked over the dress. “The Bellinis are our guests. Don Moretti's daughter will not sit next to him looking unfinished.”

He summoned a member of the household staff. “Put Natalie's place at the other end.”

My card was picked up and carried past the capos and their wives, to a corner near two distant cousins. Mother watched it go without objecting. Vivian busied herself arranging her skirt.

I went after the card and sat down.

Father lifted his glass in Vivian's direction. “To our Family's future.”

The table broke into applause. I left my hands in my lap and waited for the clapping to end.

Later, I overheard my parents discussing the family portrait.

“Tomorrow at noon,” Father said. “In the council chamber. Have Vivian wear her induction gown.”

I stopped next to them. “That's when my college interview is. I mentioned it yesterday.”

I'd already been admitted. This interview was for a selective program for incoming freshmen, and I'd spent the week getting ready for it.

“Have your interview, then,” Father said.

“But isn't the portrait meant to be of all of us?”

Our brother Adrian looked up. “Don Moretti can't move his whole schedule for your college call.”

“You're really taking it without me?”

Mother sighed. “Don't make this difficult. It's going out with the induction announcement. You don't even like these social occasions.”

I'd just asked to be included. Somehow, she had turned that into proof I didn't want to be.

Vivian rested a hand on my arm. “We'll do one with you some other time.”

She offered no date. She didn't even check with Father.

“The portrait is not being postponed,” he said. “Decide for yourself, Natalie.”

Back in my room, I turned the lock and opened my laptop.

MIT's admissions portal was still open. I'd said yes to the offer, then spent months delaying my housing plans. Father was adamant that I stay in New York. Whenever I brought up going away, he reminded me that the Family came first.

I selected the first available move-in date and used my competition winnings to pay the housing deposit. Then I bought a one-way ticket to Boston.

The flight left at 9:10 a.m. on induction day.

Let them have their portrait without me. When they finally noticed my vacant seat at the ceremony, I'd be somewhere else.