Page 138 of Ruby Malice

Lana reaches out and stills my hand. “This chain… Mom gave it to you?”

“Yeah. She wore it until the day she died. She made me promise I’d take it and wear it. She wanted it to be seen.”

Alexis gives me a sad, pitying smile. “We think it was a gift from the man who wrote her all of these letters.”

I drop my hand, the silver charm resting against my collarbone. “Oh.”

The world as I knew it has shifted. It’s like gravity has changed and suddenly, I’m floating through the world sideways, trying to get my feet back on the ground.

Lana slides the shoebox towards me. “You can have these. Read them, don’t read them, it doesn’t matter. It’s whatever you want.”

“Burn them for all I care,” Alexis adds bitterly. “The fact that we’re still talking about this stupid box twenty years later is enough reason for me to want to destroy it. It’s come between enough members of our family.”

“Maybe burning it will break the curse,” Lana says with a dark chuckle.

Realization washes over me. “The other night, when you were talking about the Garners choosing the wrong person to marry, I assumed you were talking about Mom choosing to marry Dad. But… that’s not true, is it?”

“I was talking about Dad choosing Mom,” she confirms. “For our sake, I’m glad they got married and had the three of us. But Dad’s life would have been a lot less complicated if he’d never met her.”

I clutch the box in my lap and stare down at the lid. Inside are love letters my mother wrote and received to and from the man she cheated on my father with.

Allegedly, at least. Alexis and Lana have their version of events. Dad has his. Sitting in my lap is yet another spin on the truth.

Maybe I’ll read the letters and grow to hate my mom for what she did to Dad.

Maybe I’ll understand the love she felt for this other man and sympathize with her.

I’m not sure which way it will go, but one thing is for certain: I’ve spent a large part of my life labeling people as victims and heroes. But maybe things aren’t as cut and dry as that.

It might be that we all have a little of both inside of us. It all depends on your perspective.

32

RAYNE

The mansion is buzzing with activity, but I feel like there’s a lead weight in my stomach. Some of it is that I’m still processing the news about my mom’s affair, even hours after the horrible conversation at the pool with Lana and Lexi. But a good deal more of it is that Kirill is sitting just on the other side of the kitchen wall with his sorta/kinda not-so-ex-fiancée and her family. In T-minus two minutes, I’m going to have to walk out there and serve them.

“Be careful out there,” Natalia whispers in my ear.

“What?” Honestly, I forgot she was standing next to me. “Out where?”

She tips her head towards the double doors in front of us. “I heard from one of the other girls that these guys out there are big trouble. Like, on-FBI-watchlists, could-make-us-all-disappear kind of trouble.”

Great. As if my anxiety isn’t high enough, let’s throw in the possibility of becoming a missing person. That’ll get the heart rate going.

“At least, that’s what I hear.” She shrugs. “I don’t verify the rumors; I just spread them. Like the rumor that you and Kirill have been getting pretty close.”

I snap my gaze to her. “Who’s been saying that?”

“Everyone. Why? Is there any truth to it? I was just teasing.”

The answer is yes, of course. But it’s more complicated than all of that. Kirill and Iwereclose. But now?

Now, I’m not so sure.

“We aren’t close,” I say. “I have my place in this house, and he has his. I won’t be crossing that line.”

I can’t tell if I’ve convinced Natalia or not, but it doesn’t matter. Sonya stands in front of the serving staff, clapping her hands to get our attention. There are only four waitresses and two bussers, so I’m guessing it’s a rather intimate dinner party. That information does little to ease my nerves.

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