CHAPTER EIGHT
YOU LOGGED ON
EM Joy of joys, the stuff we shipped out before we left Seattle was here when we returned to Mansion du Ghastly. Mom is happy because now she has her own towels (I’ll never understand her), Brother has his books, Bess—back from jaunting around England on her unemployment money, the brat—has her laptop, and me? I got nothin’. Other than a lot of grief from Brother when I downloaded the latest Sims game to his laptop.
“I had to sell everything I had before I left just so I could make that first payment that the evil and clearly corrupt judge made against me,” I pointed out when he was complaining that my game hogged all the hard drive space. “You said I could use your laptop if I needed to.”
He snorted. “I simply asked you if you would leave me a little space
