him then. I’m going to sleep,” I muttered, grabbing my journal as I rose from my chair.
He said nothing as I walked up the stairs.
I wished I did not have so much pressure attached to this. I was here. I was agreeing, working on it. The last thing I needed was a constant reminder that this was a prearranged agreement.
Entering the room, Wolfgang opened his mouth to say something, but I just waved him off. All the exhaustion I had fought off immediately hit me. Falling onto the bed, I kicked off my shoes and tossed my journal onto the bedside table. My eyes were already closing; it had been such a long night.
I’d figure out everything else in the morning.
Chapter8
“Don’t be mad,” Augusta said to me when I arrived. She must have been waiting at the door because I barely got my foot through the door before she was in front of me.
“Too late. I already am,” I replied.
“She called you.”
“What? Who called me?” I asked, not understanding what was with the expression on her face or why she was blocking my way.
“Your mom. I’m so sorry, Odette. I didn’t know. I already got her a table. And I’m trying to—”
“Augusta, slow down.” I was now completely lost. “What are you talking about? Why would my mom call me?”
She frowned and stepped aside. “My mom apparently took charge of the fundraiser this year.”
I still didn’t understand until I stepped forward and walked into the hall. It was then that I saw all the decorations. There were photos and banners of our father with us, with the hospital kids, and with Yvonne, even pictures of him with different members of the board. But none of my mother. There was even a photo of Augusta and me with her mother and our father that came on the slide show. What was worse, what gutted me, was seeing Yvonne taking photos and welcoming guests at the front of the ball. My chest began to tighten the more I watched the purposeful exclusion of my mother. Yvonne’s table was at the very front. Meanwhile, I could see my mother seated in the back with random people I didn’t even know. No one was even coming toward there. She just sat, dressed in gold, next to Mr. Greensboro.
“My mother started the children’s hospital fundraiser!” I did my best not to yell, but my fist balled.
“It’s not under her, though. It’s under the Etheus Foundation—”
“My. Mom. Started. This.” I hissed out each word to her. “And your mom has her sitting near the trash cans! No, you said you had to find her a place? That means she didn’t even think my mom deserved to sit by the trash!”
Her shoulders dropped. “You know how they are, Odette!”
I wanted to scream in her face and tell her that wasn’t an excuse, that I wouldn’t let my mother ever do this to her or her mother. But I was so angry that I couldn’t even do that. I stomped into the hall and made a line straight toward my mom.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to take this moment to invite Augusta and Odette Wyntor to the front,” the host said before I could get to the back.
I glanced up to the front where he was standing, and beside him, Yvonne stood tall and proud, dressed as some queen herself, her blonde hair up in a ridiculous beehive formation with a small tiara inside it.
“Please, please, don’t make a scene now. I swear I will yell at her after,” Augusta said, coming up beside me with a smile on her face. “Remember, this is the first event without Dad.”
Inhaling through my nose, I forced a smile to my face before walking with Augusta. Everyone applauded, and a large photo of my father appeared on the screen. Reaching the front, I turned back to face the crowd, my eyes going to my mother. She stood, and I had to look around people to see her clearly. She relaxed her shoulders and motioned her chin. I knew immediately what she wanted. I relaxed my shoulders and lifted my head, and she gave me thumbs-up.
“Would either of you like say a few remarks?” the host asked.
Augusta reached for the microphone without hesitation. However, because my arms were longer, I reached out and took it first. She shot me a glance of worry. She knew I hated speaking at these things. I always left that to her, but not this time.
“I