Chapter 3

"Enough!" Her father's brow creased when he saw his wife shielding both their son and Marina. "Lucille is your own daughter. Why are you always protecting an outsider?"

"After what happened today, with what Elder Abbott said, I don't see how Henry ever gets into the Group now."

Henry's breath caught, his eyes flying wide.

He was his father's only son, one of the young talents of the Pruitt generation.

The year he graduated, at twenty-three, he'd joined Pruitt Group, working his way up from the ground floor to a junior management post at a subsidiary.

His engagement had just been settled,

and Elder Abbott had been about to promote him into the head company. Now all of that was ruined.

After a long silence, her father suddenly asked, "I heard you ranked first in the whole city this time?"

My chest tightened. I nodded, and his expression eased a little. "Study hard. You're only fifteen, but if you ever take an interest in finance, you could come try your hand at the company."

Henry's eyes went wide. It was the first time our father had ever acknowledged me, and the first time he'd ever suggested I might come to the company someday.

"No!"

Mother snapped back almost on instinct, glaring at me, her voice sour.

"What business does a girl have at the company? A married daughter is water poured out the door. You promote her, and she'll only end up handing it all to some other family!"

"The important thing right now is helping Henry!"

"All we have to do is make Elder Abbott and the others see that Lucille is the one at fault. Tomorrow I'll take her to the old house and have her explain herself to everyone. I won't let this jinx ruin my son."

A shudder went through me, and I jerked my head up to look at her.

In that moment she was frighteningly unfamiliar, slowly blurring into the nanny from my memories.

I thought of my third month after being brought back.

That day happened to be my birthday, and Henry had told me early on that we'd celebrate.

"Marina's birthday isn't really today, but she's such a considerate girl. She said she didn't want us to forget yours, so she moved her own birthday to this date."

I'd nodded, not fully understanding, looking forward to the day more than anything, only because I hadn't had a birthday in seven years.

But the day before, Marina broke down in tears, saying she didn't want to celebrate her birthday on that date.

Henry fussed over her, scrambling to soothe her.

Between sobs, Marina said, "Henry, I don't want to be someone's shadow. In all these years I've never once had a birthday that was really my own."

Mother and my brother listened, their hearts aching for her, and the next day the birthday dinner they'd planned was called off.

There was a hollow place inside me. I worked up the courage to ask, "Mom, could you buy me a small cake? I've never had one before…"

"Some other day."

She was picking out new clothes for Marina, and answered without looking up. "It's just a cake. What's so good about it."

And so the birthday I'd waited so long for passed without a sound.

It wasn't until six months later that I finally tasted cake, at Marina's birthday, when Mother and my brother booked out an entire hotel and had a custom nine-tier cake made for her.

I cradled a small piece carefully. The frosting was stiff, so sweet it turned bitter, and as I ate, the tears suddenly slid down my face.

So this was what a birthday cake was?

The children in the village had always bragged that cake was fragrant and sweet. Why did it taste so bitter in my mouth?