‘For darkness’ sake!’ Laughing, Ivy scooted away, her eyes narrowing as she wagged a finger in a mock-warning. ‘If I take one more hit, I might just cut your hair myself!’
‘Sorry!’ Smiling, Olivia put up one hand in reassurance. ‘I promise I’ll take care of it as soon as I can.’ She lowered her voice as she turned to look behind her. ‘All I was trying to do was ask you . . .’
Wait a minute.
On the other side of the living room, Charles was still regaling her adoptive parents with his grand plans for the exhibit . . . but there was no sign of Lillian anywhere. She’d slipped away.
Brendan wasn’t the only one acting oddly tonight!
Olivia jumped off the couch and headed for the door, her sparkly pink kitten-heel shoes clacking against the polished hardwood floor. The moment that she was out of the living room, she spotted Lillian in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast counter with her head lowered over her smartphone. She’s still typing that message, Olivia realised. How long can this be?
‘Lillian?’ she asked. ‘Are you OK?’
Lillian’s phone landed on the breakfast counter with a thud. ‘Wha–? Olivia!’ She pressed one hand against her chest. ‘I didn’t hear you come in.’
‘Really?’ Olivia stared at her stepmother. ‘But . . .’ She stopped herself before she could say anything that might embarrass Lillian.
But seriously, Lillian had vampire hearing – nobody should have been able to sneak up on her, especially not a human stepdaughter in heels!
How distracted is she? Olivia wondered. And how serious is this conversation?
Taking a deep breath, Lillian plastered an obviously fake smile on her face. ‘Sorry – you asked me if anything was wrong, didn’t you?’ Her eyes widened, looking haunted. ‘I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Nothing to worry about at all.’
‘Um . . . are you sure?’ Sighing, Olivia pointed to her stepmother’s left ear.
Lillian absently lifted a slim hand to her earring-less ear. ‘Well, earrings are hardly important, right?’ She let out a dry half-laugh that didn’t sound amused. ‘I doubt Charles will mind me looking less than perfect.’
Then her gaze dropped back down to the phone, and her face tightened. In a whisper, she added, ‘ . . . If he even notices.’
Olivia stared at her stepmom. Did she really just say that?
Charles and Lillian had been married for less than two months. They couldn’t be having problems already, could they?
Lillian glanced back up. ‘Oh, just look at your face!’ She clucked as she stood up and swept towards Olivia. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let you worry. Everything’s fine! Really.’ She wrapped her arms around Olivia in a warm hug. ‘In fact,’ she added, ‘I will show you just how fine everything is.’
Nodding firmly, she gave Olivia one last squeeze and then marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Olivia was left alone in the middle of the kitchen, feeling distinctly un-reassured.
First, Brendan had taken that secretive phone call. Now Lillian was acting a little bit out of character.
I’ve only been gone for a week, Olivia thought. What’s been going on here without me?
Olivia’s bio-dad stepped in behind her, whistling a tune that sounded as if it could have come from the Victorian era . . . which, in his case, was absolutely possible. He broke off as Olivia turned to face him, though, and smiled at her. ‘Oh, good! You’re here – you can help me carry cakes and drinks in for the others.’ He pulled down glasses from the top shelf of the cabinet and handed them to Olivia. ‘You’ve been missing all the fun out there! I’ve been describing the entire exhibit to everyone – room by room, in minute detail.’
‘It sounds great,’ Olivia said sincerely. She wondered if her bio-dad knew that not everyone was in the living room with him, but he looked so excited about his work, she hesitated to bother him with questions. ‘I’ll be right behind you,’ she told him.
‘Good, good.’ Charles turned to head down the hallway, but as he walked away he called back, ‘Would you mind bringing in some cheese?’
‘No problem!’ Olivia opened the refrigerator, leaned down to open the cheese drawer . . .
. . . And her towering beehive hairdo swept straight across one refrigerator shelf, sending food and Tupperware boxes crashing to the kitchen floor.
Olivia groaned.
Ivy’s right. As soon as I get home, I have to do something about this ridiculous hairstyle!
Chapter Two
‘If you really think you can miss weeks of school with no consequences, simply because of your little “acting” career . . .!’