Page 24 of Freeing Lark

“You knew what was expected of you.”

“I knew what you expected.”

“And because you couldn’t put your selfishness aside, Wren had to step in.”

Lark’s hand tightened around the phone. “So you forced my little sister into the relationship.”

“We didn’t force anyone.”

“Mother.”

“We encouraged her, and she agreed… enthusiastically.”

“She’s only eighteen.”

“She loves him.”

“How can she possibly know what love is? She’s eighteen.”

“Stop repeating that.”

“What? You don’t want to hear the truth?”

Her mother’s voice became cold. “You will attend the gala.”

“No.”

“You will smile.”

“No.”

“You will congratulate Wren and Bradley.”

“No.”

“You will make it clear there are no hard feelings.”

Lark stared around her little studio. Her sanctuary. The place she’d built because she couldn’t spend another day living according to someone else’s rules. “No.”

Her mother’s silence was worse than yelling. Then another voice came through the phone. “Lark?”

Everything inside her stopped as Wren’s voice came over the line. Her little sister. “Can I talk to her?”

Hildi must have handed over the phone because Wren’s voice came through more clearly. “Lark,” she repeated.

Lark closed her eyes. “Hi, Wren.”

“Please don’t hang up.”

“I’m not.”

“You have to come.”

Lark sank onto the edge of her worktable. “Wren...”

“Please, Lark.” There was something in her sister’s voice that made Lark’s chest ache. Images of a different Wren… a different time… filtered through her mind. A little girl with blond pigtails who used to follow Lark everywhere. A little girl who thought her older sister was the most fascinating person in the world.

Wren had spent summers in Bell Creek with her, too, trailing after Lark and Marilyn through the bakery, begging Lark to teach her how to draw. She’d slept beside Lark during thunderstorms. She’d cried when Lark left for college. She’d once told Lark she wanted to be exactly like her when she grew up.