“Don’t push me now,” their mother growled quietly so no one around them could hear her. “You will be nice if you ever want a life again.”
“She’s been awful to you!” Jillian cried. “Why do you have to be the one that’s nice?”
“Because I am better than her!” their mother snapped. “I do not let other people define me. I am who I am, and that is an intelligent and gracious human being. And as such, I do not drop to the level of bullies and trade insult for insult.”
“But isn’t that just letting them win?” Jillian ignored another squeeze.
“No, it’s called standing your ground without sinking to their level.” Their mother held out her hand to Jillian. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
With Jillian linking Louise to their mother, they went in search of Anna Desmarais. A cold dread flowered in Louise’s stomach and grew. This was going to be the worst night ever.
They went into a big ballroom full of richly dressed people. At Louise’s eye level, it was a confusing wall of silk dresses and black tuxedoes. They wove right and left, avoiding groups of people standing and talking and laughing. The wall of black parted, and a woman stood alone in the crowd, quietly distanced from everyone.
She noticed them coming. For a moment, she watched their mother approach without a change in expression, like an ivory statue. Then she noticed Jillian, and a slight frown crossed her face.
Louise’s feet stopped moving out of sudden fear. Nikola bumped up against her. For a moment, Jillian was pulled between their mother and Louise. Her twin looked back, impatient, and jerked Louise forward to follow.
“Don’t piss her off,” Jillian whispered. “She’s killing my hand!”
The exchange had drawn the woman’s attention to Louise, and her eyes widened in surprise. Louise felt something leap the space between them, a spark of knowing, powerful and dangerous.
In that moment, she knew that this was Anna Desmarais, her mother’s nemesis. That the woman felt she was smarter than those around her. That she felt she was able to do anything she wanted, take anything she needed, and go through anyone that stood in her way. Louise knew because there was an answering echo inside her, a resonance of being. She recoiled as if suddenly seeing a mirror and it showed how selfish and wrong everything she’d done in the last few weeks had been. What she could become.
Did Anna see that Louise was just like her? Could she guess what Louise had done in the last few weeks?
“Mrs. Desmarais.” Their mother pulled them into a line before Anna. Their father was trying hard to look at ease and failing. “This is my family. My husband, George. Jillian and Louise.”
“What beautiful girls,” the woman murmured without taking her eyes from Louise. “Yours?” The tone was polite, but it put shivers down Louise’s spine.
“Yes, mine,” their mother said coldly. “I have the stretch marks to prove it.”
“Ah, I didn’t realize you had children. Twins, no less? Are they clever, just like their mother?”
Her mother lifted her chin as if sensing a hidden insult in the question. “Yes, they are. They go to Perelman School for the Gifted.”
“Perelman?” Anna cried. “Wasn’t that the school that had so many children hurt by the bomb?”
“Yes, but they were nowhere near the flying glass. They’re putting on
“I’m Peter Pan.” Jillian beamed full-on cute at Anna. “We’re fraternal twins, not identical. I want to be a movie director when I grow up. Louise wants to be a naturalist. We’re both huge fans of Nigel Reid. We’re really excited about meeting him tonight. Thank you so much for the tickets!”
Louise nodded, glad that Jillian was handling it. Which one of them was the brave one? She added a quiet “Thank you” and forced herself to smile.
Anna smiled at the thank-you, but her eyes remained troubled. “I’ve heard that the art gallery might still be a target for the terrorists since the queen’s delegation returned to Elfhome.”
“Vance Roycroft is no longer a threat.” Their father avoided saying the man had actually been killed in a shoot-out.
Jillian continued with megawatt-level cute. “Our friend Zahara was late that day. She and her little brother were at the front door — the good side of the front door — when it went off. Boom!”
Louise nudged Jillian to get her to stop talking about the bomb. It felt wrong to be talking about it so casually. Zahara and her brother had nearly been killed.
“Zahara is Mbeya’s daughter.” Their mother stooped to name-dropping.
“They haven’t caught all the members of that terrorist group.” Anna looked honestly worried. “Are you sure it’s safe for them to go to Perelman with all that’s going on in the city? Maybe they would be safer at a boarding school.”
“That is what the terrorists want,” their mother said. “Us so frightened that we run and hide.”
“You’re making a statement with your daughters’ lives,” Anna said.
