02 Tradition

Natalie

Uncle Michael drew in a long breath, his smile appearing like clockwork—polished, polite, and practiced. But it stopped short of his eyes, where something colder lingered.

"I'm glad you're settling in," he said, voice smooth as glass. "Hawkshire’s a fine place. The right kind of people. The kind who matter. You won’t miss the city at all."

As if that alone could wipe away everything we’d left behind.

I looked down, jaw tightening. My chest felt like it was folding in on itself.

You won’t miss the city at all.

But I did. God, I did.

"I miss my friends," I said, barely more than a whisper. The words floated between us like something fragile. Then, like always, Alison's name surfaced in my mind. Her laugh. Her letters. Her dream. The guilt twisted, low and sharp.

"And Alison? When will she come to Cainebrielle? She always talked about it like it was magic." I asked.

For the first time, Uncle Michael’s composure cracked. The smile slipped. His throat clicked as he swallowed, shifting like his chair had suddenly turned uncomfortable.

"Alison will not attend Cainebrielle University. She isn’t coming to Hawkshire,” he said, voice a little too careful. "There was only one spot. I gave it to you. She’s... upset with me about it."

The room went quiet. His words dropped like lead.

"You should’ve given it to her."

My voice was low but steady. Sad, with a blade’s edge.

"This wasn’t my dream—it was hers. Dad never wanted me at Cainebrielle. He was never subtle about that. I made peace with it. But now?"

I looked at him, really looked.

"Now it just feels like I took something that was never mine. Like I stole it from her. She must hate me for it."

Uncle Michael exhaled slowly, dragging a hand over his knee like he was wiping away something only he could see.

“She’ll get over it,” he said, waving it off like it was nothing. “Besides, with Brian gone, it’s my job to make sure his family is looked after. Sending you to Cainebrielle was the right decision.”

I stiffened. My mind lit up with everything I wanted to say—how wrong he was, how twisted this all felt—but he kept going, his voice calm, rehearsed.

“Cainebrielle sets you up for life, Natalie. You’ll make the kind of connections most people never even dream about. Maybe one day, you’ll be able to bring Alison with you—lift her up in ways she couldn’t do for herself.”

He leaned forward, eyes steady, every word calculated.

“You have a good heart. I trust you won’t disappoint this family. And, more importantly, you met their standards. Alison didn’t. It’s not magic. It’s merit. That’s how the world works.”

And just like that, it was done. A verdict handed down, no room for appeal.

He took a sip of his tea and pulled on that same hollow smile, like a mask he’d forgotten how to take off. I found myself wondering why he even bothered pretending anymore.

“So,” he said, switching tones like flicking a light switch, “are you settling in well? Making friends?”

I nodded. I gave him what he wanted—politeness, compliance, silence. He always spoke to me like I was still eight years old, and it grated like sandpaper. But I bit it back. For my mother’s sake.

Uncle Michael held the money. And money meant control. That was the equation. That was the cage.

What stung most wasn’t just the power he had over us—but that my father gave it to him. Named him executor, trusted him instead of Mom.

Did he think she’d fall apart? Did he fear she’d move on and let someone else into her life—and into his fortune?

I thought he loved her. Fully, deeply. He never gave us reason to believe otherwise. But then the will was read, and everything we thought we knew about him... cracked.

And now we lived in the shadow of those choices.

“Yes. I have a friend,” I said, keeping my voice neutral.

Uncle Michael grinned, a little too quickly.

“Boy or girl?”

“A girl,” I answered, and he visibly relaxed, as if I’d passed some unspoken test. I narrowed my eyes slightly, wondering—what was his deal?

“Well, that’s good,” he said. “You need companionship here.”

Then the smile dropped. Just like that.

“We wouldn’t want you giving people the impression that you’re loose.”

The words hit like a slap.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I turned to my mother. She reached out, trying to calm me, but I shrugged off her hand.

“Watch your tone, young lady,” Uncle Michael snapped. The irritation in his voice flared too fast, too easily. The polished calm he wore like a suit was fraying at the edges.

“Our family practices arranged marriages,” he said bluntly. “And you won’t be the exception. When the time comes, there will be a match for you.”

I blinked. My stomach dropped.

“What?” I said, my voice sharp. “My father never mentioned anything about that.”

“He didn’t want to upset you,” Michael said with a shrug, like it was nothing.

“That’s not true,” my mother cut in, voice trembling but firm. “Brian would never—”

“Enough,” Uncle Michael snapped, silencing her with a glare.

And then he dropped the hammer.

“If you want to keep living off the Pierce family wealth, you’ll follow Pierce family rules. Otherwise, you can kiss all financial support goodbye.”

I shot to my feet, fury burning through my chest.

“You can’t do that! Give me my father’s estate and keep the rest of your precious money. He never wanted any part of your rules or your legacy. That’s why he left.”

I turned to my mother. My voice cracked.

“Isn’t that the truth?”

She didn’t answer.

But something shifted in her expression—guilt, pain, maybe even fear. Something that said I didn’t know the whole story.

Not even close.