Chapter 5: The Sister

I went down in Corrado's shirt and the borrowed jeans, with bare feet and my hair wild from his hands.

I wanted my sister to see exactly what she'd pushed me into.

One of the young men stood at the gate with his thumbs in his belt.

"Do you want her gone, miss?"

"No," I said.

"Open it."

Fiorella came through the gate.

She was twenty years old, with honey-blond hair and a mouth that always looked about to cry.

Her eyes went from my bare feet to the boathouse and back to my face.

"You look terrible," she said.

"You look like Mama," I said.

"Those are her pearls."

Her hand flew to her throat.

"She lent them to me."

"She lent you my room, too," I said.

"And my jewelry."

"And my engagement."

"What do you want, Fiorella?"

She opened her purse and took out a cream envelope and a velvet box.

"Papa says you're being stubborn."

"He wants you to sign the release on Friday, quietly, in his study, with only Mama and me there."

"No families, no hall."

"That's kind," I said.

"It's very kind," she said, and her voice cracked a little.

"I talked him into it."

"You'd be humiliated in front of everyone."

She pushed the envelope at me.

"There's two hundred thousand in it."

"And here's your emerald."

"I only wore it twice."

I looked at the velvet box and didn't touch it.

"You wore it to my birthday party," I said.

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