for your own good. You would have other people who had problems like yours to visit with in group therapy every day, and folks who could take care of you. Your father is retiring this summer, and I’m planning to sell the company. You would never be able to run a huge corporation, so why keep it? We sure can’t leave you alone to fend for yourself, especially while we travel, and you’re not in any shape to go with us,” Victoria told her. “We would come and visit you often in your new assisted-care center, and we would bring you home for Christmas. When you wake up from this folly and return to us, we will take you to see the place. It’s really quite pleasant.”
“So, the bottom line is come home and get locked up somewhere for the rest of my life, or stay where I am with no money?” Emma asked.
“I don’t like your tone,” Victoria said, “and Jeffrey is parking now, so I should be going.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Emma was amazed that she hadn’t thrown up.
“Why should I? You know the answer, but to make things perfectly clear, yes, Emma, that’s the bottom line. Call me when you want Jeffrey to come and get you, or else be independent and make your own decisions with no money. But that’s not your choice forever: you’ve only got a few weeks to make up your mind, and then I’ll fix it so you can’t come home again—ever. I suppose I can reach you at this number in case of a dire emergency?” Victoria asked.
“That’s right.” Emma felt her chin start to quiver and pursed her lips to make it stop.
From the sound of a car door opening and slamming and Jeffrey’s voice saying something about returning in two hours, Victoria must have been going into the salon. “Like I just said, this is not an open-ended offer. Understand me when I say that you only have four weeks to come home, or else I will transfer all your money into my account.”
“I think that’s called theft,” Sophie said.
“I expect that’s Sophia. She’s always been a thorn in my side. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s not your half sister. Goodbye.” Victoria ended the call.
Emma threw the phone across the room. “She’s lost it, Sophie. She’s crazy, and I’m the sane one. Looking back, I think she’s planned this from the time I was twelve years old, or maybe from the day I was born. How could I not have seen this sooner? Even if Rebel and Daddy were having an affair, you were already born by then.”
“My father is dead,” Sophie assured her. “He was in the army when he and Mama met at a party. They had a wild two weeks, and he went back overseas, where he died without ever even knowing she was pregnant. Mama had no idea that my father was married when she had the fling with him. And she didn’t start working for Victoria until I was four years old,” Sophie said.
“I wish Rebel had been my mother,” Emma said. “I don’t know why Mother has to be so controlling, and I’m so sorry I can’t repay you for all those things you ordered for me.”
“Shake it off,” Sophie said. “You don’t need money right now. You just need to get stronger and be that girl who fought to get to stay in public school with me or for me to get to be tutored with you. Go get dressed and take that walk you talked about. This is a great place to think. Take my phone with you and write down the landline number in case you need me.”
Emma wanted to shake her head to clear all those memories she had locked away and suddenly remember why she had cut up that painting. For the first time, she wanted—no, she needed—to face her fears, and yet all she had were flashes that popped into her head at the strangest times. Like that memory of leaning over the bed with satin sheets and throwing up on a white rug. Victoria loved satin sheets and had them on most beds, but there had never been a white rug in the Merrill mansion, so where did that vision come from?
It’s only been a day. It’s been more than a decade since you buried whatever happened, so don’t expect for it all to come flooding back in twenty-four hours, the voice in her