Page 75

“It kind of is, Nainai,” Eleanor says. “I mean, not that gege is a scumbag. But that we messed up too. It’s not just on Cici Sharlot.”

“It was all me,” Papa says. “Don’t blame the kids. I should’ve known better.”

“Yes, you should have!” Nainai snaps. But then she sighs and says, “But I know you were just trying to help your son. That’s what parents do, we sacrifice our happiness for that of our children’s.”

“Just like Sharlot’s mom was doing for her,” I point out.

Nainai frowns. Then, miraculously, she mutters, “I suppose.”

Holy shit. I exchange amazed glances with Eleanor, Papa, and Eighth Aunt. We rarely ever see Nainai change her mind likethis.

“Anyway, are you all here to tell me that house arrest is over?”

“Oh, son, I wouldn’t call it house arrest,” Papa says, wringing his hands.

“Am I allowed to leave the house?”

“Of course you are!” Eighth Aunt says with an overly bright smile. “We advise you not to, of course—”

I slump back onto the foot of the bed. Of course. “Advised.” That’s my whole life. I’m never forced to do anything. I’m “advised” to, for the greater good, and you don’t want to be the black sheep of the family, do you, George? You don’t want to be the one who brings shame to the family. We must all sacrifice for the family.

I look at Eighth Aunt and notice for the first time how she looks—well, not that she looks bad in any way—but she looks slightly less polished somehow. And then I see all the little details—the eye bags, the nails that are just a little bit chipped, like she’s started picking at them before she stopped herself with her usual iron will. The makeup that is ever so slightly less perfect than usual.

“How are you doing, Eighth Aunt?” I say.

She shrugs. “I’m all right, thank you. A bit tired. So many board meetings, you know. And our investors needed a lot of reassuring because of—well, you know.”

Yeah, I know. I nod, contrite. OneLiner has tanked, obviously, and tanked hard. Our stock was down three whole points the day after the launch. A disaster that has sent flocks of investors clamoring to pull their money out.

“It’s not your fault, George,” Papa says. “It was mostly me.”

I shrug. No use pointing fingers now, and anyway, it definitely is mostly my fault. I was the one who led Sharlot on in Bali. I was the one who fell for her.

“But we’ll be okay,” Papa continues. “We’ve weathered worse. Join us for dinner downstairs tonight, okay? Please.”

“I don’t have much of an appetite.” I’ve left most of the food that was delivered up to the door of my room untouched.

They sigh, looking uneasily at one another. Then, thankfully, they shuffle out of my room.

Something comes over me and I call out, “Eighth Aunt? Um, can I…can we talk for a second?”

Papa turns to look at us, confused, but Eighth Aunt gives him a nod and as usual, he listens to her. As soon as they’re all gone, I feel my palms get clammy. I’ve just asked Eight Aunt to talk. Alone. A not-so-tiny part of me is squeaking in fear.

“Um, I just wanted to apologize for everything,” I begin, but Eighth Aunt shakes her head and holds up her palm.

“No, George, you’ve done enough apologizing.” She sighs and sits down on the chaise longue. “You did well, you know. In Bali, during the presentation? You hit it out of the park.”

My mouth parts, but nothing comes out. I wasn’t expecting this at all.

“And I’ve thought about your ideas for OneLiner…,” she continues. “They were good. The one about having a share function so users can post their stories? I love that. Building a strong community is important for the success of so many apps. You did well, George. Well, until the whole Rina thing. But it’s a good lesson to learn: In business, you can do everything right, and theproduct can still fail because of external forces. Things you can’t possibly foresee. Did you know that before Toagong built the family corporation, one of the things he invested in was a budget hotel? It was doing okay, but then one night, there was an electrical fire and the whole thing burned down. It bankrupted him.”

Oh my god. I had no idea what Toagong—my great-grandfather—had to endure on his path to success.

“So, let this be a lesson. You’ll be all right. We’ve got you.”

Hearing that feels like a weight’s been lifted from my shoulders. “Thanks, Eighth Aunt.” I hesitate, my insides kicking because the next thing isn’t for me to bring up, but I really, really need her to know that just like how she’s got my back, I’ve got hers too. “Um, and…um. I, um…” Wow, this is painfully awkward.

Eighth Aunt’s eyes narrow. “Is this about Sharlot’s mom?”