Page 75 of These Summer Storms

“Whywereyou with him then?” Sila asked.

Sam dropped his phone and flung a hand in his wife’s direction, as though they’d really done something. Alice rolled her eyes and looked around the room, only to discover that the whole family was waiting for an answer.

“He asked me to go sailing,” Alice said as Sam’s eyes narrowed to slits and he picked up his phone, typing furiously. “That’s it. Nothing happened.”

Greta’s brows rose, and Alice resisted the urge to wince at the unforced error. But Greta wasn’t in a position to probe on exactly what kind ofnothingmight or might not have happened. Instead, she asked, “Why did you go?”

“I—” Alice stopped. “I don’t know.”

“Just casual friends on a leisure cruise?”

She looked to Emily. “We’re not friends.”

Her sister laughed. “No kidding. Jack doesn’t seem the type to have friends. He’s so stern and difficult. You know I once offered to do his birth chart, and he told me he didn’t have time? He wouldn’t even tell me his birth date, so I can’t even tell you his sun sign, though I suspect he’s a Capricorn. Virgo rising.” She looked to Sam. “That would explain why Sam can’t stand him—Aries.”

“Doesn’t Alice have a fiancé?” Sila asked, suddenly alert.

“We’re not lovers.” She paused. “Jack and I. Obviously. Not Griffin and I.” This was getting messy. “The point is, I’m not sleeping with Jack.”

Shut up, Alice.

The entire family was staring at her.

“I should hope not,” Elisabeth said.

No one replied for a moment, and Alice went warm with embarrassment at the silence until Sam saved the day, albeit unwillingly. “This. Is. Bull. Ship.” A pause. “Ship.” Another. “Ship.” He groaned his frustration.

Emily deadpanned. “It’s a sailboat, Sam. Not a ship.”

He shot her a deadly look.

“It’s a mess, is what it is.” Elisabeth looked from Alice to Greta. “Think of what people willsay. Your father’s silly game, Alice catting around with Jack—”

“Okay, well, once again, we are notcatting around.”

Elisabeth was still speaking. “Greta moping about because she won’t simply end her…adventure…”

It was a brutal thing to say. To diminish what Greta and Tony obviously had.

“It’s not an—” Greta started to defend Tony. Stopped under Elisabeth’s cool gaze, knowing better than to argue.

“You know, I’m beginning to think your father knew what was best with these games.” Elisabeth twisted the knife. “Get it done, Greta.” Once she delivered the directive she looked to Alice. “And you. I expect you to lead with discretion when speaking to yourjournalistfriends.” Her mother saidjournalistthe way she saidpolitics.Orcarbohydrates. “It’s bad enough there were photographers at the train station.”

“How did you know about the train station?” Alice asked, but she knew the answer. She looked to Greta, who was staring at the floor, consumed by the thick sapphire pile. Of course, she’d told their mother. And with no expectation of loyalty in return. “It doesn’t matter.” Alice straightened, steeled her tone. “I didn’t talk to them.”

“You’re sure?” Alice faced her mother again, betrayal hot in her chest. There was strain on the older woman’s face. The faintest shadows underneath her eyes. The tightness at the corners of her lips.

“Yes, Mom, I’m sure I didn’t happen to mention that my father hadplanned an elaborate inheritance game to a bunch of people paid to take my picture. Nor did my sister’s yearslong secret love affair come up.”

“Well,” Elisabeth retorted. “You can’t blame us for considering it. You aren’t exactly part of the family anymore.”

Alice froze, the words not entirely unexpected and still cutting sharper than she would have imagined. It wasn’t the words that hollowed Alice out, though. It was the silence that followed them—no one willing to refute them. Emily staring out the window at Franklin’s tree. Greta chewing her lip, consumed by her own worry. Sila’s eyes wide. Sam’s phone silent.

They didn’t have to speak. Their agreement was loud enough. Whatever had happened when her father had exiled her from the island and the family, had been at best Alice’s choice, and at worst, her fault. “Really? None of you…” She shook her head. It wasn’t worth it. “Well. Whatever you think, the truth is the same. I didn’t tell anyone anything.”

“Mmm.” The sound wasn’t comforting, nor was the way her mother leaned back in her chair and exhaled, as though she’d fought a battle.

Alice was vibrating with frustration and anger. All she wanted was togo. What was the point in staying? It wasn’t for mourning or shared grief. It was laughable that this family would be able to access either of the two.