Page 76 of Wicked Brutal

Something cold crawls down my spine. “Settle?”

“Your priorities become clearer.”

Dad takes a drink. “Alison has always been stubborn.”

Victor’s eyes stay on mine. “Only because she’s been allowed to be.” My fork feels heavy in my other hand. He says it lightly. Like a joke.

Mom’s knife slips against her plate. “She isn’t difficult.” The words are quiet. So quiet I almost think I imagined them.

Dad looks at her, and Mom immediately lowers her eyes. Victor’s thumb stops moving against my hand. “I didn’t say she was.”

“No.” Mom cuts another piece of chicken. “Of course not.”

That’s it. She doesn’t challenge him. Doesn’t explain herself. Doesn’t look at me. Her shoulders have gone tight. Dad watches her for another second before returning to his food.

Victor releases my hand. I put it in my lap. My skin still feels like him. I want to scrub it. Instead I sit there — pretty, polite, quiet. Exactly what they expect.

Dad and Victor keep talking. They move from Zurich to London. Someone named Ashford. Something Victor says needs to stay separate. Dad mentions an account. No number. No bank. Just, “Not the same account.” Victor tells him he knows. I memorize that too. Ashford. London. Separate. Different account.

Then Palm Beach comes up again. A dinner. A man Dad doesn’t like. A woman Victor says talks too much. None of it means anything to me. Maybe none of it matters. I remember it anyway.

That’s the thing Dad has never understood about me. He thinks being book smart means I can memorize things for tests. He’s right. He just never considered that I might memorize him too.

By the time Mom brings dessert out, Tobias has started yawning. He gets halfway through a piece of chocolate cake before his head nearly drops onto his plate.

Mom smiles. “Okay. Bed.”

His head snaps up. “I’m awake.”

“You almost fell into your cake.”

“I was looking at it.”

“With your eyes closed?”

He considers his options. “Yes.”

Mom stands. “Come on.”

Tobias looks at me. “Can Ally do it?”

Dad starts to answer, but Mom beats him by half a second. “Ally needs to finish dinner.” Her eyes flick to mine. Barely there. Then she looks away. “I’ll take you.”

Tobias sighs like this is a grave injustice but slides out of his chair. Mom takes his hand, and as they leave she glances back at me. One second. That’s all. Then she’s gone.

Victor doesn’t leave after dinner. Dad takes the scotch into his study, and Victor follows him. Mom gets Tobias settled upstairs before coming back down, and I help her clear the table.

Neither of us speaks at first. The study door is closed. Dad’s voice carries through it occasionally, but I can’t make out the words from the kitchen. Mom stacks plates beside the sink. I carry over the glasses, and she takes one from my hand. Then another. Her fingers are shaking.

“Mom?”

“I’m fine.” The answer comes too quickly.

I look toward the hallway, then back at her. She runs water over a plate that doesn’t need rinsing yet. “Did you know Victor was coming tonight?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”