Page 11 of Glass

No. At the moment, I’m an Ellis. I think.

Or maybe a Green.

I lost count a while back.

I’m about to ask my mother, but she’s frowning at me, so I close my mouth abruptly. “This is a happy day, you know. You could at least look grateful. It was very kind of William to send this car for us.”

Ah, yes.William. The new flavor of the month.

I wonder how long this one will last. I hope he’s nicer than the last one. Edward was ruddy-faced and merry. At least until he’d had a few drinks. Then his fists did the talking.

We didn’t stay there long. And now we’re making our way through endless winding green fields, through gently weaving yellow miles of corn and orchards that look perfect for climbing. At least the scenery is pretty.

“How will I get to school?” I blurt out. Another new school. Something else I’ve lost count of. My mother only rolls her eyes.

“William has a tutor that attends the house. Easier all around.”

“He hired a tutor for me?” I ask with a frown. It seems… excessive.

My mother shifts a little, the only sign of discomfort she allows herself. I narrow my eyes. “Mother.”

She sniffs. “He has sons, I believe. Three.”

I stare at her. “Threesons? How old?”

She waves a hand. “Around your age. One is a little older, I think. It will be nice for you to have siblings.”

I let my head thump against the side of the car.Excellent.

I don’t want fake brothers, or a tutor. I want stability, and a proper school. I want ahome.

None of that is in the cards for me. Not as long as my mother is in charge. But that won’t be forever. As soon as I’m old enough, I’m taking out every loan I can and heading to the first college in Sorelle that accepts me.

Freedom.

But in the meantime, I’m left to trudge along in the wake of my mother’s many broken relationships.

She straightens in her seat, a smile spreading across her face. “Well, now. This will do nicely, I think.”

Turning, I stare morosely out of the window. And my eyes widen.

The house rises up in front of our eyes as we head down the hill. Not a house. A mansion. Red bricks cover several stories, broken only by large, beautiful glass windows. Ivory pillars prop up a balcony that runs the length of the house on the second floor, ivy winding around them prettily.

“Are you sure this is it?” It looks like a school. Or a hotel.

“Oakbourne Manor,” my mother breathes. “William did say it was on the large side.”

That’s an understatement. But we’re already pulling up, and I catch sight of the people waiting outside.

Four of them. An older man paces in front of the younger three. It looks as though he’s lecturing them. They all have their arms crossed, mutinous expressions on their faces as they turn towards us, and I shrink back instinctively. “Mother. I don’t think—,”

“You never do think,” my mother shoots back. “This is about our future, Anastasia. William is a good man. And a rich one. So smile, and be polite. Understand?”

I bite the inside of my cheek heavily. “Understood.”

I know the rules. I’ve played this part before, more times than I can count. So I climb out behind my mother, carefully smoothing out the creases in the new green-checked dress she gave me to wear this morning. My shoes pinch at my toes, black and shiny and new as I stand there awkwardly and wait.

My mother throws herself at the man I’m assuming – hoping – is William with a delighted squeal that hurts my eardrums. “Darling! I missed you so much.”