Chapter 4

Marjorie thanked Harry Henson and his team.

I got into Job Roman's car, and the second my hand touched the passenger door, it was nudged lightly aside.

Sophie Matthews slid in as though the seat were hers by right, leaning out to smile at me.

"Sis, I'm just used to riding shotgun with Job. That's where I keep my favorite car diffuser."

"If it bothers you, take Sebastian's car, or sit in the back."

Job had been watching my face the whole time.

He stepped in with the right amount of protest. "Sophie, the front seat's for the girlfriend. Don't act up. Next time—"

He didn't finish before the rear door opened.

I got in.

"The back is fine for me."

"She's the younger one. I should give way to her."

Job froze for a moment, and in his eyes there was shock, panic, and confusion all at once.

A phone rang inside the car. Sophie answered, listened to a few words, and her face suddenly darkened.

"I won't do it."

"Why should I marry some man I've never even met?"

"You're all playing favorites. I'm not the only daughter in this family."

The car reached home, and Sebastian was the first one over to soothe her.

"It's fine, there'll be a way, I promise I won't let you marry anyone you don't want."

Sebastian marched off to find their mother.

"Mom, what century is this? Nobody does arranged child marriages anymore."

"My sister's never even met the guy. Why should she be the one to marry him?"

Mrs. Matthews looked a little grieved.

"The Hensons saved this whole family once. Now the old man's failing, and they want us to honor the marriage promise so he can see his grandson wed."

"We took their kindness. We can't turn around and stab them in the back."

Sebastian remembered that part too. He frowned, thought it over, then over again, and finally looked at me.

"There are two girls in this family. If someone has to marry in, we can't just point at one of them."

"I say we draw lots. Whoever draws it, goes."

Sebastian pulled Job off to prepare the slips, and once they reached the study, Job shook him off hard.

Job was getting angry. "Are you out of your mind? Marjorie's my girlfriend. She's not marrying anyone."

"We're going to be talking about our own wedding soon."

Sebastian lowered his voice.

"You really have the heart to let Sophie be the one married off?"

"Marjorie's not stupid. She's in love with you. You think she'll just sit there and wait to be handed over if she draws it?"

"She'll run, obviously. So you register with Sophie first. That way, when the other one bolts, Sophie's already got a marriage license with you, and Mom and Dad won't have a choice."

I'd only gone up to change clothes and put some pain cream on my leg.

That was when I heard them.

Job was still wavering. "If I register with Sophie, Marjorie's going to be upset."

Hearing him give a little, Sebastian pressed harder.

"You'd only be husband and wife on paper. It's not like you'd actually be together."

"Once it's over and Mom and Dad have cooled off, you just divorce Sophie."

Job decided it was the safer play. "All right, let's do it that way."

I left without a sound.

I'd been wanting to leave for a long time anyway. This only made the accounts easier to settle.

The drawing began.

I picked a slip at random, and sure enough, there were the two words on it: get married.

I handed the slip to Mr. and Mrs. Matthews.

"Let this substitute marriage settle what I owe you for raising me all these years."

"After this, we're square. Completely."

I didn't look at their faces. I went straight to my room and saw no one.

The substitute marriage to bring the ailing patriarch good fortune was arranged in a rush.

Lots drawn today, gone tomorrow.

Early the next morning, Sophie was knocking at my door, as if she couldn't wait, hurrying me out.

"A married-off daughter is like water thrown out the door. Get lost, and the sooner the better."

Without her brother or Job around, she couldn't wait to show her true face.

I felt nothing at all as I looked at her, my voice flat.

"Who ends up getting lost in the end, we'll see about that."

Mr. and Mrs. Matthews looked grim, opening their mouths several times without speaking. They took the file envelope from my hand and watched me leave.

When they opened it and made out the few lines written inside, both of them looked as if they'd aged ten years.