Page 39 of Hot Puck
Our parents wouldn’t only want the girls to live out their dreams. They’d want me to as well.
Making the decision to sign or not sign a contract with the Rogues is the easiest and hardest of my life.
Easy because it’s everything I ever wanted and more, and a few months ago I would have signed the contract on the spot.
Hard because it means taking us all away from where our parents are buried, from the home they made for us, the only one we’ve ever known.
Moving away from here isn’t as simple as loading our furniture into a truck either. I need to decide what to do with the house, the business, the girls’ school…
But with Natalie’s help, her guidance, and the expert opinion of the agent of all agents, Drake Morgan, I think I’m ready to do it. To sign on the dotted line and change all our lives again.
There’s just one final hurdle, one final opinion—or two—I need to get before I take the Rogues up on their offer and take my sisters to the other end of the country.
Natalie has agreed to have Candace for the rest of the afternoon so I can pick up Cass and Stell from camp.
My plan is to take them—at Natalie’s suggestion—out for an early dinner so I can talk to them about the contract I’ve been offered and what signing it would mean for all of us.
I know they’re aware something is going on; they aren’t stupid, and any time Natalie and I have discussed things it hasn’t been secret whispered conversations behind hands or closed doors.
They must know why she’s here or at least suspect.
When I arrive in the camp parking lot, I stay in the car. The few times I’ve picked the twins up have been uncomfortable to say the least. The pitying looks, the awkward offers of condolence.
I don’t need or want or have the energy to talk with anyone right now.
I know a lot of the community has tried to help over the last few months, but I don’t need any well-meaning people getting in my face today. There’s too much going on in my head and heart to deal with someone else’s thoughts or emotions.
Honestly, it’s the sympathy and pity I can’t stand. And I have to wonder if the girls are noticing the difference in the way people look at us now. They leave the house more than I do, have more contact with people outside our little family, and I can only assume they’re treated differently since our parents died.
Movement in the side mirror grabs my attention and I focus on it, see the twins heading my way with one of the teachers a few steps behind them. My back snaps straight and my hand darts to the door handle when I notice the expressions on all their faces.
The girls look like they’ve been crying, and the teacher has a pinched, angry, disapproving look. Nothing about their appearances has me feeling good.
Opening the door, I hop out and walk toward them.
“Cass? Stell?”
My voice has them rushing forward and for the first time since the funerals, they throw themselves into my arms and sob.
Wrapping my arms around them, I raise my eyes to the teacher and stiffen at what I see. Her angry gaze is trained on the twins and if looks could send daggers, this one would.
“What the fuck happened?” I can’t hold the anger from my voice—or stop myself from swearing—and when the woman looks at me like I’m scum on the bottom of her shoe, I’m glad I didn’t.
“Cassidy and Crystal are suspended from camp for the rest of this week and next.” She folds her arms and glares at me. “When they return, they will apologize for the way they spoke to?—”
“Hold up. They’re suspended from camp?”
“I cannot allow them to remain when they spoke to several of my staff with disrespect.”
“I can’t imagine either of my sisters would do that without provocation.”
“Of course they would. They’ve been nothing but rude and disrespectful from day one. They refuse to pair up with any of the other attendees and don’t take part in group activities like the other children.”
“How are they rude?”
“They’re sullen and barely speak when spoken to and when asked to help with the younger children refuse to do so.”
“What you see as sullen is probably sadness. I’m not sure if you’re aware of our situation?—”
