Chapter3

From my doorway, I could hear one of Father's men reporting to him in the main hall.

"Boss, we intercepted messages about the ambush. Someone gave them your son's and daughter's locations. We have a rat."

Father struck the table with his palm.

"The banquet is in two days. If the other families hear about this, we'll be a laughingstock."

He lowered his voice, but I could still make out every word.

"Lock down the estate. Keep the investigation quiet. From now on, no one leaves without a pass signed by me."

I gripped the doorframe.

By noon, there were two extra men at the front gate and another walking the back fence. I watched them from my window and timed how long each of them took to make his rounds.

Maya and I had already chosen where to meet. I had money now, and a working phone. None of it would help if I couldn't get past the gate.

I spent the day trying to think of a reason Father might let me leave. Every excuse I came up with led back to the same question: why would he make an exception for me?

That evening, Marco picked another fight.

"Bianca gets to give a speech at the banquet? What am I supposed to do, stand there and clap?"

He kicked a chair out of his way.

Father rubbed his forehead.

"She likes speaking in public. You don't. I'm trying to save you from tripping over your words in front of everyone."

"So she gets all the attention, and I get nothing?"

Marco swept a vase off a table. It shattered at his feet.

"You always take her side. How is that fair?"

Father looked around the room. His gaze settled on me, standing near the wall.

"Claire. You made a film with that director friend of yours, didn't you?"

I nodded.

"We'll screen it at the banquet. Put Marco's name on it. Then everyone can see what he has to offer too."

For a moment, I couldn't answer.

"Father, we spent years working on that film. It's Maya's work too. You can't just—"

"Why are you so concerned about getting credit?"

He spoke as if I were the one making an unreasonable demand.

"Marco and Bianca are evenly matched. I won't have one of them overshadowing the other. Both my children deserve a chance to shine."

Both.

I nearly asked him again. What about me?

Then I looked at Marco, still waiting for Father to make this right for him, and an idea came to me.

"All right. You can have it."

Father's shoulders relaxed.

"But we need to put it in writing," I said. "It can't just be handed over to Marco. I want the film transferred to the family as an asset. You'll have to sign the paperwork."

Marco laughed.

"You're charging your own family? Are you really that desperate for money?"

I ignored him and went to the study.

I printed a copyright transfer form and a pass authorizing me to leave the estate for a supply run. I laid the transfer form over the pass, covering its heading and text but leaving the signature line exposed at the bottom.

Then I carried the pages back to Father.

He was still talking to Marco. He barely looked down when I placed them in front of him and pointed to the line.

"Here, Father."

He pulled out his pen and signed. Then he tossed the pen onto the table.

"There. You'll have your moment at the banquet," he told Marco.

My brother grinned at me. I lowered my eyes before either of them could see my relief.

When they left, I lifted the top sheet.

Father's signature was on the pass underneath.

I folded it and slipped it into my pocket, careful not to let the paper rustle. They could put Marco's name on the film. I still hated it, but I had something I needed more urgently now.

A way through the gate.

Two days later, the families gathered for the banquet.

It was also my twentieth birthday.

I'd decided it would be the last one I spent in that house. Even so, while the servants prepared the hall, I caught myself hoping Father had remembered.