Page 110 of These Summer Storms

He shook his head and looked to Greta, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. It was heartbreaking. This man loved her so much, and he was still Greta’s secret. She still couldn’t find it in herself to walk away with him. To stand in their truth, together.

Her sister took a deep breath, and for a moment, Alice thought it was to shore up her courage, knowing what she had to do, what she had to say.

And then she turned to steel, her face going sharp and angled, like Elisabeth’s. Her hair gleaming, old-money blond in the late-summer sun, like Elisabeth’s had once done. Her shoulders tipping back, spine straight, like Elisabeth’s.

In the silence that fell, Tony was gone, crossing the lawn toward the path that would take him to the helipad, Greta and Alice watching as Elisabeth made a show of surveying the mass of people below who didn’t realize what had happened up on the hill—something that might have been tragic if they weren’t all here to mourn a different tragedy (or at least pretend to mourn one).

They didn’t know they’d witnessed a decimation.

Alice took a step toward Greta, who was looking out to the water, where the sun gleamed on the waves in a thousand tiny, blinding lights. “Greta. You can stop this. Hell, I can stop this. If I leave—”

“Don’t youdare.”

Alice was shocked by the venom in Greta’s reply. “I—This wasn’t my fault.”

It was true.Wasn’t it?Or had she pushed her mother into this in the solarium? Had she gone too far?

“Just—” Greta looked as though she might scream. Held it in. “Just—you’d better not leave. Not after this.”

Alice pulled up short. “I wasn’t—”

“Not after we’ve all made sacrifices. You’d better fucking stay.” Greta’s fury was palpable, directed squarely at Alice. And then the eldestStorm sibling was spinning away, down the hill, toward the party, where she could don her costume as doting, grieving daughter, and hold her emotions at bay.

“Well,” Elisabeth said, as though everything had gone according to plan. As though she hadn’t been the architect of Greta’s broken future, and her animosity toward Alice. “That settles that.”

Alice came undone. “How could you do that? Push him away like that? Force Greta to end it? Now? Today?” Alice was facing her mother now, unable to keep her tone measured. Unable to keep herself still. She advanced toward Elisabeth, who stayed still, an immovable force. “Do you realize how cruel that was? How much you’ll regret it when you see what comes of it?”

“Cruel?” Elisabeth blinked in that practiced innocence that Alice was beginning to loathe. “How? I did it for her. I took the task from her. I handled it. Like I have always handled everything with her, and with all of you. Sam’s through with his tasks, Greta with hers, and you certainly won’t leave now…not now that it’s all resting on you.”

Alice’s jaw went slack. “What?”

“And as for regret—I shall simply add it to all the rest. I’ve more than enough.”

So that was it. Her mother was going to play martyr. And to think Alice had worried about her earlier. What a stupid thing to do. If there was one truth in the world, Elisabeth Stormsurvived.

Jack stepped in, the words low and quiet and threatening. Unyielding. “That’s enough.”

“Thank you, Jack,” Elisabeth said, as though he’d come to her rescue. “It’s nice to know there is some chivalry in the world.”

Alice bit her tongue.

“You should return to the party, Elisabeth,” he said.

“I think I will,” she said, firing a cool retort at Alice as she started down the rise. “I’ll find someone who enjoys my company.”

Jack let her get a few feet before saying, “Elisabeth.”

She stilled, looking over her shoulder, a false smile on her face, like Jack was her new favorite person. The portrait of a gloat, as though she’d won. “Yes?”

“You’re wrong. Your task isn’t complete; you’re still not telling them the truth.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do,” he said. “But if you’re struggling, you’re welcome to complete your other task for the day now.” They all understood. Immediately. And still, Jack clarified, sharp and clean. “Do you have something to say about Franklin?”

Alice couldn’t help the little laugh that came at the question, at the knowledge that every one of them could happily predict what Elisabethwould liketo say about Franklin.

Elisabeth turned her narrow gaze on her middle daughter. Without missing a beat, she replied to Jack. “He would have been proud of Alice.”

---