Chapter4

He didn't need to make a speech. A few minutes, a quiet word, would have been enough.

Instead, I was told to put on a black uniform and help serve drinks.

Our film played on the big screen. At the end, Marco's name appeared in the credits where mine should have been.

Bianca stood on the stage in an expensive gown, smiling as the guests praised her. I moved between them with a tray so heavy my wrist ached.

When I finally stopped in a corner to rest, I heard one of the older men talking to Father.

"That girl over there. She's the daughter who took a knife for you, isn't she? You don't often find loyalty like that."

Father glanced at me and shook his head.

"You don't know what she's like. Always so gloomy. She never smiles. I couldn't put her up on that stage."

He turned toward Marco and Bianca.

"Those two make me proud. They know how to handle themselves."

My grip slipped on the tray. I reached for the edge of a chair, afraid my knees were going to give out.

An old man's hands caught my arm.

It was Walter, the retainer who'd looked after me when I was little. He steadied the tray and helped me set it down.

Then he took a pocket watch from his coat and pressed it into my palm.

"I haven't forgotten, miss," he said. "I've had this for half my life. It's old, but I'd like you to have it."

He smiled at me.

"Happy birthday, Miss Claire. Twenty years old."

The metal was tarnished. I rubbed my thumb across it, trying to answer him.

Someone had remembered. Walter had kept track, even when I hadn't said a word about my birthday.

I tried to thank him, but my voice broke. I closed my hand around the watch and nodded instead.

I needed a moment alone before I could go back to serving. I put the watch in my jacket pocket, draped the jacket over a chair, and went to the restroom to wash my face.

When I came back, the watch was gone.

I checked the other pocket, then the chair and the floor beneath it.

Bianca passed me on her way across the hall. Walter's watch hung around her neck.

"Give it back."

She looked at me, startled, and hurried behind Father.

I followed her.

"Bianca. Give me my watch."

She clutched it against her chest. Her expression changed as she turned toward Father.

"Why did Walter give her an antique like this and nothing to us? That's not fair."

I stared at her.

"You have everything. You and Marco got the money, the protection—even the film I made. I want one thing that's mine, and you call that unfair?"

Bianca's mouth opened, but no answer came. Then she began to cry.

Marco heard her and pushed through the guests.

"What's going on now?"

Before I could stop him, he yanked the chain from Bianca's neck and threw the watch onto the floor.

"There."

He brought his heel down on it.

The glass shattered. Gears scattered across the polished floor.

"Now neither of you gets it," he said. "That's fair."

I stepped toward him, but Father slapped me.

The blow turned my head. I caught myself against a chair and pressed a hand to my burning cheek.

Father stood over me.

"Enough. Making a scene in front of our guests—have you no shame?"

I looked at him, waiting for him to look down at the watch. He didn't.

He turned on Walter instead.

"I've warned you before. You don't interfere in matters concerning my heirs."

Walter went pale and lowered his head.

"Don't blame him, Father."

My voice sounded strangely steady.

"It was my fault. I won't ask for anything again."

I crouched down and picked up the pieces. The case was bent under Marco's shoe. I collected that too, along with the small gears I could find.

No one tried to help me.

The music started up again before I'd found the last gear. Somewhere behind me, a guest laughed, and the party went on as if nothing had happened.

Back in my room, I put the broken watch away and pulled out my suitcase. This time, I didn't push it back under the bed.

At the gate, I handed the guard Father's signed pass.

He checked it and let me through.

I drove until I saw Maya standing on Maple Avenue. She raised a hand and waved, and I had to pull over before I started crying too hard to see.

I looked back once. I could still see the estate in the distance.

Then I got out of the car and held on to my friend.

"You made it," Maya whispered into my hair. "I wasn't sure you would."

Neither was I.

Goodbye, Father. Goodbye to the Valenti family.

I wasn't going back.