Page 3 of Wicked

She shrugs and wipes her tears from her cheeks, following the police car onto the highway. “Worry about how the fuck we’re going to live.”

I stare at her in shock.

Did she even love Dad?

“How can you care about that?”

Her eyes cut to mine, and she glares at me. “In time, you will learn the importance of money. You can’t live without it.”

I want to tell her that there are more important things in life than money, but I know she’ll never agree. Instead, I cross my arms over my chest and look out the window as a feeling of emptiness engulfs me.

The only thing that can make this moment bearable is music, so I take out my iPod and go through my playlist to find something that fits my mood. “Wake Me Up When September Ends” byGreendaystands out, and I play it, letting the music ease the pain. The lyrics wash over me as I drift off into my own world, away from Mom, trying to make sense of everything.

I close my eyes and imagine Dad singing along to the words. He always loved Greenday and would play their songs all the time. “Summer has come and passed. The innocent can never last. Wake me up when September ends,” we sing. I never understood the meaning of this song until this moment, and it’s September. My birthday will never be a happy occasion again, as it will always be the day I lost my best friend.

The tears come back, and I let them fall, not daring to glance at Mom. I’m not sure I even know who she is anymore.

2

ELLA

Present day...

Mom’s constant chattering fills the back of the limousine as we are driven up the driveway of my new stepdad’s home, a stepdad I’ve yet to meet.

I feel betrayed.

She eloped with a man called Remy Morrone only last week. A man she only met a few days before, and now we’ve left our hometown of Washington to come and live in Chicago at his home. It shouldn’t surprise me, as she’s always been like this.

Not only has she forced me away from my life and friends, but from Dad’s grave, too. I used to visit every Saturday morning to put new flowers on his headstone.

At twenty-one years old, you’d think I’d have a choice whether I stay in Washington, but you’d be wrong. Mom has had control over my bank account and life since I wrote one hit novel three years ago, which still makes a good living. She got the courts to rule that I needed help managing my money at eighteen years old and has had control ever since. It means I’m tied to her wherever she goes.

I tried opening another bank account a year ago, but she found out and hit the roof. Tearing up the documents and burning them. She said I was trying to leave her destitute after everything she’ddonefor me. I laughed when she said that, as all she’s ever done for me was be absent and care more about money than her daughter.

I should have just run away and started afresh somewhere new. I guess a stupid loyalty to my only blood relation left kept me with her, but I don’t know why Mom wants me to stay with her now, especially since she won’t have to worry about money.

My new stepdad has five kids, so I’ve got brothers and sisters overnight, but only two live at his home.

“Who is this guy?” I ask as we travel up the longest driveway I’ve ever seen.

Mom beams at me. “I told you, Ella, He’s rich as hell. We’re going to be fine now.”

I sigh, as Mom has always been shallow. It’s one of the things I can’t stand about her. Money means the world to her, and it’s why Dad worked for the people he did and got killed. And yet, she’s gotten worse since he died and has been driven by a need to become rich. It looks like she’s finally succeeded as we stop in front of an enormous mansion.

As I step out of the limousine, I’m struck by the grandeur of it. It’s huge, with towering columns and a large porch. It’s impressive, even if material things have never interested me.

Mom nods toward the entrance of the house. “Come and meet your new family.”

I can feel my nerves creeping up on me.

What if Remy is a complete asshole?

What if his kids hate me?

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.

“What are you waiting for?” Mom asks.

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