Ivy winced. ‘But still . . .’
‘No.’ Brendan’s dad turned back to stare at them, his face grim. ‘Do you think I’d be so stubborn that I wouldn’t forgive my sister for eating an artichoke?’ He clenched his hands into fists. ‘No. What I couldn’t forgive was that she broke that Law purely to hurt our mother – who was the best person I ever knew. And if Carla is coming back to Franklin Grove after all these years, then I know one thing . . . I won’t be here to tell her to leave again.’
What? Ivy went blank with shock. Before she could think of a word to say, Mr Daniels turned and charged out of the living room.
Stunned, she and Brendan stared at each other.
‘Could he really do it?’ Ivy whispered. ‘Would he really take you away from Franklin Grove?’
Brendan didn’t answer her out loud. But she saw the horror in his eyes, and she knew – Mr Daniels was not kidding.
Ivy wrapped her arms around him, and he buried his face in her hair. ‘It’s going to be all right,’ she whispered.
But secretly, she thought: This is a total disaster.
Chapter Eight
Olivia looked around the dinner table the next night and sighed. This is the oddest dinner I’ve ever had at my bio-dad’s house . . . and that’s really saying something!
When she’d stopped by the house that evening, she’d hoped to grab a private moment with her stepmom to finally figure out what was going on. She’d arrived just as dinner was ready, though, so now there were four people sitting at the dining table . . . and three of them seemed to be in another world entirely.
Charles had a notepad open in his lap, which he never looked away from even as he forked steak into his mouth. Ivy looked glum as she picked at her sweet potato, obviously lost in her worries over Brendan. Lillian – who looked dressed for a royal banquet, rather than an ordinary dinner at home – seemed to have no appetite at all.
Weirder still, Lillian’s smartphone chirped in her handbag every few minutes. Charles didn’t even notice, and Lillian never moved to answer it – but her perfectly made-up face twitched every time it made a noise.
I can’t take this any more. It wasn’t just curiosity or nosiness for Olivia now. If someone didn’t tell her what was going on soon, she might actually explode!
Taking a deep breath, she set down her salad fork. ‘Lillian,’ she said. ‘How was your day?’
‘What?’ Lillian blinked, her mascaraed eyelashes dark against her pale skin. One hand moved to fidget with the emerald necklace around her neck. ‘Oh. Ah. Fine.’
Then she went straight back to pushing her uneaten steak around her plate, gold-and-silver bracelets rattling against each other on her wrist.
Time for Plan B: make Lillian and Charles talk to each other!
‘So, Dad,’ Olivia said brightly. ‘Has Lillian been to the museum yet? What did she think of the exhibit?’
‘Mmm?’ Charles didn’t even look up from his notepad, where he was busily scribbling notes even as he continued to eat.
Lillian’s words came out in a mumble. ‘Looking forward to Saturday, just like everyone else.’
Olivia forced extra peppiness into her smile. ‘But aren’t you impatient? Don’t you want a sneak peek?’
Lillian didn’t even look up. ‘I hate spoilers.’
Drat. Olivia’s shoulders slumped. A dinner table with a fabulous meal was just not the right setting for any kind of confrontation.
‘Sorry. Did you ask me a question, Olivia?’ Charles shook himself, as if he were shaking off a trance. ‘This is very rude of me, isn’t it?’ He grimaced as he held up his notepad. ‘I beg your pardon, everyone. Why don’t I take my food into my study so I can get some more work done without being impolite?’
‘Dad . . .’ Olivia rolled her eyes. ‘I saw the museum yesterday, remember? I think you’re done! Seriously, it looks as good as it needs to. Doesn’t it, Ivy?’
‘Wha–?’ Ivy’s voice sounded bleary. Clearly, she had no idea what the others had been talking about.
‘Ivy agrees,’ Olivia said firmly to their father. ‘You’ve done a great job, so stop worrying about it!’
‘Why, thank you, Olivia.’ Charles smiled at her. ‘I appreciate the kind words. However, this isn’t about this weekend’s exhibit. It’s about what I might do with the South Wing of the museum if it is, indeed, entrusted to me afterwards.’
‘What?’ Olivia stared at him. ‘But you’ve been working so hard on the exhibit. Can’t you give yourself a little break?’ Or some time to pay attention to your wife? she added silently. Can’t you see how weird Lillian’s acting?
But Charles was already standing up. ‘I’m afraid not, my dear. There’s no time to be lost. I want to do something spectacular – but more than that, it needs to be worthwhile.’
He headed out of the room, leaving Olivia staring helplessly after him. At the table, Ivy was still busy using her fork to turn her sweet potato into mangled, not-so-sweet mashed potato, while Lillian seemed to have turned into stone.
As Olivia watched Charles disappear through the door, irritation flashed through her, tightening her chest. How can such a smart man be so oblivious to how his own family feels right now?
Looking again at Lillian’s mask-like face, where all expression had been carefully hidden, Olivia released her tension in a sigh.
‘I like your dress, Lillian,’ Olivia offered. ‘It’s very . . .’ Formal, she finished in her head. Who wore a black silk evening gown to a family dinner at home? ‘. . . elegant,’ she finished out loud. ‘Where did you –?’