Verum

I feel my spine, ram-rod straight, and I picture the vertebrae, lining up, afraid to slump in Eleanor’s presence. I have to believe that the sun is afraid to shine with her around. She’s that intimidating.

“I realize you aren’t feeling well, and that is to be expected,” Eleanor’s British accent is thick, and I find myself distracted by that, and the fact that my mother lost her own over the years.

“But you have a significant inheritance from your grandfather,” she continues, staring a hole into me. “And you must comply with certain stipulations in order to receive it. Since you are eighteen now, time is getting away from us.”

“What are the stipulations?” I ask politely, and I itch to get out of this room.

Eleanor looks down her nose.

“First, you will attend Cambridge University. Every Savage has attended Cambridge, always. You will live here at Whitley during your University years.”

Pause.

“You will submit to having me on your bank account, in addition to yourself.”

Pause.

“You will work with my PR person to ensure you don’t tarnish the Savage name.”

Pause.

She looks me in the eye. “You will hyphenate your name. From here forward, you will be known as Price-Savage.”

This last one gives me pause, because I know my father won’t like it.

“Does Dare have to hyphenate his name, too?” I ask without thinking. Eleanor looks like she swallowed a lemon, her mouth pinching into a knot.

“Of course not. Adair is not a Savage, and never has been. His inheritance is a pittance compared to yours.”

That doesn’t seem quite fair.

I swallow hard.

“Lastly, and most importantly, you have until you turn nineteen to claim it. You must be of sound mind, Calla.”

You must pull yourself together. That’s what she’s really saying. You must not be crazy.

I stare blankly at her.

“Are these terms agreeable to you?”

Eleanor waits, expecting me to agree, expecting me to make excuses for my frail mind. I don’t. I finally answer with soft words.

“I’ll try.”

Eleanor is unflinching.

“Very well. You may go.”

She looks down at her desk, her attention already on something else.

I let myself out, and when I’m in the hall, I allow Finn to join me.

“She can’t be serious,” he rolls his eyes.

I slump against the wall. “I’m afraid she is. I don’t think she knows how to joke.”

“I’m not changing my name,” Finn tells me stoutly. “I’m a Price.”

“She’s not asking you to change it,” I reply diplomatically. “You’re dead. She’s asking me. But not to change it, only to hyphenate it.”

“Dad will have kittens,” Finn points out, and I know he’s right.

“Probably.”

He chews his lip.

“But maybe. We’ll think on it.”

Like always, he speaks of us as a unit. Because we are, even now, even though he’s dead.

“I need some things,” I tell him. “Toiletry items,” I add before he can ask. “Girl stuff. I think I’ll go into town and pick them up. Do you want to come?”

He shakes his head. “For girl stuff? Uh, no. I think I’ll just stay here and take an imaginary walk through the gardens.”

“Good idea. I should practice being alone.”

“You should,” he nods, and I once again ponder my ridiculousness. Am I so pathetic that I have to imagine a reality?

Apparently, I am.

I find Jones downstairs, and hesitantly, I approach the imposing man.

“Is there any way you could take me into town? I need to go to the store.”

“Of course, Miss Price,” he nods, immediately interrupting what he’s doing to tend to me. “I’ll bring the car around.”

I’m waiting out front when Dare comes out the door, breathtakingly sexy in a black outfit, black slacks and snug black shirt. He blows out of the house like a breeze, and stops next to me.

“Can I catch a ride with you?” he asks, eyeing me up and down, checking for weakness.

“Of course. But don’t you drive?” I ask dumbly, because he’s been driving himself somewhere every night. He cocks his head.

“Sometimes, I just wanna be lazy.”

“Understandable,” I nod. “You can by all means share my ride.”

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