Chapter 18: Lemon Tart

I let her in.

Simon stood at the top of the stairs in last night's shirt, and I shook my head at him.

"Wait in the study," I said. "Leave the door open a crack. We'll be in the kitchen."

"I'll be just inside."

"Stay where she can't see you."

He went, and I put my phone face up on the kitchen table with the recording running.

Cecily came in carrying a white bakery box, in a plain grey coat with her hair tied back.

She looked tired and young and sorry.

"I brought lemon tarts," she said. "From the place on Fourth. You used to eat three."

"Sit down, Cecily."

She sat across from me at our mother's table.

She did not open the box.

"I know what you think of me," she said. "You've decided I did all of it for money."

"You hired men to put me in a chair."

"I hired men to frighten you." Her eyes filled.

"I thought a night, and then you'd come home and let Dad forgive you."

"Forgive me."

"You were so cruel at the grave. In front of everyone."

"I said no to a proxy."

"You said it to me, in front of the whole family." Her chin shook.

"You've always had Mother's letters, and Mother's house, and now the shares.

"What did I have? A father who needed me to be good every day."

"You had everyone's love."

"I had everyone's expectations." She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. "That's not the same."

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Traded Me for My Sister Twice, But I Planned the Second Time from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.