Chapter 3

The next morning, the house was already crowded with stylists, florists, caterers, and members of the gala committee.

Staff carried gift boxes through the living room while photographers tested the lighting near the staircase. A framed portrait of my parents and Vivian had been placed beside the entrance.

The card beneath it read:

THE BROOKS FAMILY

There was no indication that another daughter existed.

I was crossing the foyer on my way to the kitchen when Dad stepped in front of me.

"The Morgans are here for lunch, along with two reporters from the gala committee."

"I'm only getting something to eat."

"Have the housekeeper bring it to your room." He glanced toward the living room to make sure no one was watching us. "If anyone speaks to you, remember what we discussed. You're a relative staying here before college."

Vivian came down the stairs in the dress chosen for the afternoon photographs.

"It's only for one day, Skye," she said. "You wouldn't want reporters asking why Mom and Dad never raised you. That would be humiliating for everyone."

She said everyone, but she was looking at our parents.

Neither of them corrected her.

Dad waited beside the stairs until I turned around.

"Fine. I'll eat upstairs."

His expression relaxed.

The housekeeper brought me a sandwich twenty minutes later. I ate at the desk while voices and laughter drifted up from downstairs.

Around three, I heard Vivian telling a reporter how grateful she was to have grown up surrounded by parents who had always supported her dreams.

Mom laughed and said raising her had been the greatest privilege of their lives.

I closed the door.

By early evening, the driveway was lined with black cars. Guests filled the garden and the first floor of the house. Music played beside the pool, and photographers gathered around Vivian as she posed between our parents.

No one came upstairs for me.

That was exactly what I had expected.

I changed into my pajamas, checked the early move-in documents Sarah had sent me, and began organizing the few things I would need when I left.

Near the end of the gala, someone knocked on my door.

The housekeeper stood outside.

"Miss Vivian asked you to come downstairs. She said she saved you a piece of birthday cake."

I hesitated.

After spending the entire day pretending I didn't exist, it seemed strange that Vivian suddenly wanted me at her celebration. Still, most of the guests should have been leaving by then, and I saw no reason to refuse a piece of cake.

I put on my mask and sunglasses before following the housekeeper downstairs.

The gala was not over.

Photographers were still gathered near the pool, and several of my parents' closest friends remained in the living room. A tall man in a dark suit stood beside Vivian, listening as she spoke.

The cake had already been divided.

Guests carried slices on small gold-rimmed plates. The caterers had given the remaining pieces to the staff. Even the security guards near the back entrance had cake.

There was nothing waiting for me.

Mom saw me at the bottom of the stairs and frowned.

"Why are you down here?"

"The housekeeper said Vivian asked me to come."

Vivian hurried over before Mom could say anything else.

"I invited her. I just realized there was someone here she needed to meet."

She slipped her hand around my arm and led me toward the man beside the pool.

I tried to pull away, but she tightened her grip.

"Vivian, let go."

She pretended not to hear me.

"Ethan, there's something our parents never told you."

She spoke loudly enough that the people around us stopped talking.

The man turned toward me.

"This is my sister, Skye," Vivian continued. "She's the daughter your family promised you to."

A quiet murmur passed through the room.

Ethan looked at Vivian, then at me.

"Her?"

Vivian lowered her eyes as though the situation embarrassed her.

"Skye was raised in the countryside, and she isn't used to events like this. That's why Mom and Dad didn't know how to explain the arrangement to you."

Dad came over immediately.

"Vivian, this isn't the time."

"But Ethan deserves to know," she said. "His family made the agreement before either of us was born. It wouldn't be fair to keep hiding the truth from him."

She finally released my arm.

Ethan studied my hat, mask, and sunglasses. His expression became colder the longer he looked.

"You're Skye Brooks?"

"Yes."

"And you've known about this engagement?"

"I heard about it from my grandmother."

His gaze moved over my clothes.

I had come downstairs expecting cake, not a public introduction. Beneath my coat, I was still wearing the Harvard T-shirt Grandma had bought me and a pair of pajama pants.

"My wife will attend premieres, fundraisers, and shareholder dinners with me," he said. "She'll be photographed everywhere she goes."

"That sounds exhausting."

A few guests laughed before quickly falling silent.

Ethan's jaw tightened.

"I'm serious. I need a wife who can stand beside me in public, not someone who covers her face and hides upstairs whenever guests arrive."

Vivian touched his sleeve.

"Don't be too hard on her. Skye has always been sensitive about her appearance."

She had known me for less than two days.

Ethan looked at my parents.

"Why didn't either of you tell me?"

Mom's face flushed.

"The arrangement was discussed before the girls were born. Nothing was ever formally announced."

Dad nodded.

"We planned to speak to your family privately. Vivian shouldn't have brought it up tonight."

Vivian looked hurt.

"I was only trying to stop everyone from being blindsided later."

Ethan turned back to me.

"I won't honor the engagement."

He said it in front of the photographers, my parents' friends, and the guests who had gathered around us. He expected me to be ashamed. Perhaps he expected me to argue or ask him to reconsider.

Instead, I felt relieved.

I had known him for less than five minutes, and that was already more than enough.

"Then there is no engagement," I said. "You're free."

The room fell silent.