Page 1 of Degradation
Prologue
SHADE
Ten years ago.
‘That’s April. She’s your stepmother now. The girl walking next to her is Marguerite, her daughter, and your new stepsister.’
‘You got married?’
Andy’s voice is incredulous, but I don’t know why he’s surprised. John Novelle doesn’t ask anyone’s permission to do anything, least of all his two kids.
My father’s tone is almost bored. ‘I did.’
‘You didn’t invite us?’
I roll my eyes at my brother. Why is he bothering to ask? He knows what Pop is like.
‘You were at school,’ my dad replies readily. ‘I saw no reason to bring you back for aparty.’
I glance at Andy. I am a little surprised now. Usually, Dad would have us in suits like his, touting us before his friends and associates like little clones for a big PR opportunity like that. It’s not like him to pass it up, but I guess, as it’s Thanksgiving, we’d be coming come for the weekend anyway. The Van Houssens usually have their holiday party on the Friday, so he’ll want us to go, look like a family.
‘We haven’t even met her,’ I can’t help but mutter, my eyes sweeping over the woman in the black pencil skirt, red-soled heels, white blouse, and matching blazer with her brown hair neatly coifed.
She’s already had the Novelle makeover, it looks like. That’s the first thing Dad does when he decides to date someone new. The family image needs to be upheld, after all.
But the kid next to her is in a pair of jeans and a shirt that looks a little small. The long hair that matches her mother’s is in two braids down her head behind her ears and tied together at the end. She plays with the end while she walks, flicking it over her thumb at an almost frenzied pace.
It’s kinda weird.
My father rolls his eyes at my words. ‘You’ll meet her at dinner. Make sure you’re dressed properly and on your best behavior, or else.’
‘Or else’ is never an empty threat with my father. It could mean two weeks without screens, or a month of weekends helping the gardeners move dirt in the grounds somewhere. He even called Birchmore Academy in October to make sure our free time in the rec room was taken away for a month because Andy got in trouble for something. I still don’t even know what he did, but I sure as shit got punished too.
‘Yes, sir,’ we both mutter, watching as our dad strolls from the room without a backward glance at his two sons.
‘What the hell?’ Andy mutters, staring at our newmomand the girl who looks like she’s about our age. ‘Pop decides to get married to some gold digger on a whim and we have to just deal with it?’
I stare down at them from the tall window. ‘She might not be here for the money.’
He grunts and side-eyes me. ‘Course she is. Who would marryPop? And c’mon. That girl with her. The shirt. The shoes. Looks like it’s all from that warehouse store outside of Richmond. Can you imagine if she came to school dressed like that?’ He laughs a little. ‘Her clothes don’t even fit her.’
I shrug, kind of liking the look of her; different from the other kids I know. She looks fun.
‘And I don’t care what he says,’ Andy continues. ‘She ain’t my mom and that girl is not my sister.’
I hear the sadness in Andy’s voice, and I brush my hand against his. Neither of us remember much about our mom. She passed away before we were two, but we used to wonder what it would be like to have one. Someone to hug us when we fell down or read to us and tuck us in at night. I mean, Iguessthat’s what moms do...
Andy makes a noise of anger where even a few months ago he would have returned the gesture. Now, he yanks his hand away with a sneer.
‘Don’t fucking touch me!’
He turns away, mumbling something about gold diggers and gay brothers and I roll my eyes and call him a jackass to cover the way his words cut me.
He leaves the room the same way Pop did, and I keep watching.
I wish I could say that this was a surprise or a shock, or that my dad doesn’t just make massive decisions that affect us all the time on whims, but he does. A year ago, he fired our au pair. Sally had been with us for five years and we came home from school to find her gone. Six months ago, he decided we were going to boarding school.
But there’s no point arguing. John Novelle’s word is law in this house, in Richmond, and beyond. I don’t know how far his reach actually goes, but it’s further than my sixth-grade world anyway.
