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“You didn’t know?” he says, surprised.
“They didn’t exactly tell me where they were going each night. I knew they wanted you, and I’ve heard a few other names mentioned, but I didn’t know it was this bad,” I say, seeking my sister out and finding her standing at my mom’s side. There’s a smile on her face, but even from this distance, I can see it’s hollow and empty, not reaching her eyes. “Poor Penelope,” I say quietly.
“Don’t feel sorry for her, she loves this,” Gulliver spews nastily.
“Look at her, she’s miserable,” I say, nodding in my sister’s direction. “She didn’t ask for any of this either.”
“She doesn’t have to play along,” Kip says, snagging glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handing them out to us all.
“Doesn’t she? Maybe she hates this as much as I do,” I muse, wrinkling my nose when the champagne touches my lips. “Is there a bar anywhere? I really don’t like champagne.”
“Stay here with the guys, I’ll go and get you something else,” Gulliver murmurs, pressing a kiss to my lips as he plucks the glass from my hands and walks away.
“Want to go and look at the auction lots?” Thorn suggests.
“Sure, maybe there’s something fun we could buy.”
As I peruse the displayed lots, I feel her presence before I see my sister appear at my side. “Hello, Penelope.”
“Hello, Izabella,” she says quietly.
Hawthorn, Davis, and Kip surround us, but I smile at them. “I’ll be fine,” I assure them. Their glares remain unhappy, but they reluctantly fall back a few feet, at least giving us the illusion of space.
“They all seem very protective of you,” my sister says, not looking at me as she pretends to read the lot listings.
“They saw my face. I think they all feel a little responsible now.”
Her body language tenses, and she turns to look at me. “Why would they feel responsible?”
“Because they all helped Gulliver with the proposal,” I say honestly, not seeing the point of lying to her.
Her laugh is light and sweet. “It really is all fake, isn’t it?”
“Maybe, maybe not. Either way, nothing changes. I won’t sacrifice my life any longer. We should never have started it in the first place. I won’t go back into the shadows, not now that I’ve had a taste of the sunshine again.”
Her sigh is resolute. “I know. They haven’t accepted that yet, though. Mom almost lost her mind when she saw the pictures of you in that article. You looked so different, so happy with Gulliver and the others. She’s jealous, and you know that’s not going to end well.”
Dropping all pretense, I turn and lock gazes with my twin, staring at the all-too-familiar face and wishing I could see something redeemable in her reflected stare. “Do you want the money so badly that you’re happy to live like this? Do you even like any of the guys that Mom and Dad are trying to get you to marry, or is this all you just going along with them because you have no idea what else to do?”
She stays silent, her expression barely even flinching, but I see it. I see the truth, and a flash of emotion hits me like a Mack truck, and the desire to pull my sister into my arms, to hug her because she’s my twin and she’s hurting and alone, is almost overwhelming. “You hate this, don’t you?” I whisper.
Her lips press together in a hard, firm line as she stares at me, not saying a word. But her silence says more than any words she could utter would. She’s as much a prisoner in her life as I was in mine.
“Just fail,” I gasp. “All you have to do is fail, and then it’s all over. The money will be gone, and you can run. I’ll help you run.”
“It’s not that simple,” she whispers, her lips trembling.
“Yes, it is. What can they do? One little slip and that stupid grade point average rule will destroy the fragile card house that godforsaken will has made you live in for the last three-and-a-half years. One B, that’s all it’s going to take. Then you can pick your future, you can pick your own destiny, your own husband, and you can walk away from them and be whoever you want to be,” I cry, a little too loud for the quiet room, but I don’t care, this is too important.
“I can’t,” she says, her eyes haunted and lost. Then she turns and walks away. She appears at our mother’s side a minute later, just as Mom pushes a guy I recognize from school toward her.
Charging across the room to the bar, I find Gulliver and take the glass from his hand, throwing back the contents. “I want to go,” I say loud enough for him to hear.
His eyes rake over me, and he nods, taking the glass from me and placing it on the bar. Slinging his arm over my shoulders, he guides me back to where the others are standing a few feet away. “We’re leaving. Are you guys coming?”
“Yes, this is boring as fuck, and Molly’s sending me pussy pics again. She is totally DTF,” Davis says, pumping his fist in the air.
“DTF?” I ask.
