Page 58 of Bitter Prince

I would let the knowledge die with me.

* * *

Later that day, with the sun slowly lowering to the horizon, the girls were back in the pool. After the incident with the neighbor’s snake, I had no desire to step in the vicinity. Apparently it wasn’t the first time it’d escaped. It liked our terrace more than its own, and I didn’t even want to think about why.

For that reason, I chose to roam the house instead. Papà’s office, the living room, the dining room. The house was like a museum, commemorating the late Grace Romero. Countless photos of her hung on the walls. I searched, but there were no pictures of Phoenix and me. Not a single one.

This made me come up with another theory. Maybe neither of us belonged to him.

Normal families had pictures of their loved ones around. Grandma had pictures of us in her home in California and in the UK. Heck, she’d even shoved us into a Glasgow family portrait, which was awkward as fuck.

Or maybe Papà kept our photos out of his home to keep us out of the underworld,I mused. It wasn’t a far-fetched theory, right? Or maybe I was pathetic in hoping—against all odds—that he loved us even after Mamma died.

I heard voices and headed to the kitchen, stopping in my tracks. What was Grandma doing here? My eyes darted back and forth between three heads bent together in a circle.

Grandma and husband number five stood with Papà where they spoke in hushed, rushed tones. Maria prepared dinner, efficiently as always, with her head bowed down. She was the embodiment of a fly on the wall and…Wait. There was an idea.

Maybe she should be the one I question. She was always with Papà and clearly he trusted her.

“It’s the only way to protect them,” he grunted. “It’s the only plan I have.”

They were so lost in their discussion, they never saw me enter, so I pressed my back against the swinging door.

“Tomaso, it’s a mistake to open that door and you know it,” Grandma hissed. “It was her dying wish.”

I stiffened. They could only be talking about Mamma.

“Some things are best left unsaid,” Grandpa Glasgow chimed in. “I didn’t know her, but she must have had a reason to ask that of you.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter. We’re risking her life by keeping it—”

Papà’s gaze landed on me suddenly, and he snapped his mouth shut. Maria was the only one who kept moving, almost as if she was unaware of all the tension going on around her. It was a skill I’d yet to master.

“Reina.” Grandma’s smile was strained as she rushed to me and cupped my cheeks. “You’re getting more beautiful by the day.” I rolled my eyes but said nothing. “How are you?”

Papà spoke quietly to Grandpa Glasgow while I eyed them, wondering if they’d dare do something behind Grandma’s back.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Is that any way to greet your grandmother?” The actress that she was, she even managed to look undignified despite the plastic surgery she’d had over the years.

“Sorry.” I kissed her offered cheek. “I’m just surprised. When I talked to you a few days ago, you didn’t say anything about visiting Italy.”

She waved her hand dramatically. “I missed my granddaughters. I haven’t seen you in months.”

“We just FaceTimed,” I pointed out but didn’t roll my eyes. Grandma Diana loved us, but she had no qualms setting us straight when we acted like brats.

“Not the same.”

We could go on and on about it, but we’d end up in the same place, so I let it go. I learned there were certain battles not worth fighting.

“What were you all talking about?” I asked instead.

“Nothing.”

“The future,” Papà answered.

“Dinner plans,” was Grandpa Glasgow’s answer.