Chapter 1 The Day I Came of Age
Brenda's POV:
My fiancé, Randall Moretti planted one hand against the wall and caught my wrist with the other, blocking my way at the top of the stairs.
Downstairs, my older sister, Samantha Vitale, was looking for him.
I shifted to one side and said quietly, "Samantha's looking for you. You're her fiancé now."
His expression darkened. "Do you have to keep reminding me?"
Samantha coughed downstairs.
Randall glanced back instinctively, concern furrowing his brow as his grip loosened.
I pulled free and started down the stairs. "I'm going to my coming-of-age ceremony. Please move."
"You said you wanted me to walk into the hall with you on your coming-of-age day," he said slowly, as though I were the one breaking our promise.
"That's too much to ask now."
Randall kept staring at me, waiting for me to take it back. He was waiting for me to grab his hand and beg him, the way I used to, to spend just one day with me.
But I didn't stop. I walked straight out.
It was the day of my class's coming-of-age ceremony. I'd just turned 18, and the invitation bearing my full name, Brenda Vitale, had sat on Dad's desk for two weeks before he'd finally agreed to attend.
A black sedan was already idling at the estate entrance. Dad stood nearby in a charcoal suit, a white rose Mom had chosen fastened to his chest.
He'd postponed his morning meeting to accompany me. Several men who ran the docks and underground casinos waited beside the stone steps, none daring to hurry him.
The guard at the gate pressed a hand to his earpiece, waiting for confirmation from the patrol outside the walls before opening the gates.
Dad raised a hand, and the conversation by the steps immediately fell silent.
When he saw me, he gave me one of his rare smiles. "No business today. Whatever that report says, you've been part of this family for 10 years. Of course we're coming to your ceremony."
Mom reached toward my collar as though to straighten it. "And not just today. Every important day from now on..."
Her hand froze in midair.
Samantha stood barefoot in the foyer, tears streaming down her pale cheeks.
She looked at us and asked softly, "Are you all leaving? Was it like this when I couldn't wake up? Did everyone leave me alone in the dark then, too?"
Dad's face tightened. He immediately hurried past me. Mom gathered up her skirt and rushed after him, leaving her handbag on the steps.
I bent to pick it up and waited.
Two minutes later, they emerged with Samantha between them. Randall draped a cashmere shawl over her shoulders. Mom gave me an uneasy glance.
"Samantha was ill for so long that even leaving the house is difficult for her. Let her come along and enjoy herself. We owe her that much."
"Okay."
Mom parted her lips, apparently surprised I'd agreed so readily.
"Bring Samantha's coat, too. The hall might be cold," Mom told the housekeeper. Then she checked her watch. "Did you bring her medication? She can't miss a dose."
"It's in her purse. I'll make sure she takes it." Randall took Samantha's bag and helped her into the car.
Samantha rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes wearily. "Dr. Bell said I haven't fully recovered. I can't miss a single dose."
Ever since Samantha came home from the hospital, Mom had dropped whatever she was doing to fetch her medication whenever she so much as frowned. I climbed into the car and leaned back in my seat silently.
Whenever we'd argued in the past, Mom's expression would harden. "Samantha spent the last two years in a hospital bed while the whole family revolved around you. Now she's asking for one little thing. Can't you be considerate?"
I wasn't going to argue anymore. Whatever Samantha wanted, I'd let her have it.
