The Sullivan Sisters - Kathryn Ormsbee Page 0,67

about you. It was for me. But you couldn’t possibly understand that, could you?”

“Oh my God.” The full truth had come to Claire, contorting every muscle of her face. She got to her feet, and when her head collided with a blanket, she ripped it down, ignoring Murphy’s squeak as she tossed it aside.

“Wow, Eileen. I’m the control freak, huh? I’m not the one who basically held her sisters hostage when we had a perfectly working van down the road. So maybe look in the mirror.”

Eileen snorted. “Yeah, whatever.”

“That’s your best comeback? Well, here’s mine: You get your wish. Clearly, you never wanted me or Murphy on this trip. It’s for you, right? So have it. Enjoy Christmas in this godforsaken house, all alone. Murphy and I are leaving.”

“W-w-what?” sputtered Murphy.

Claire didn’t wait around. She was out of the castle, out of the room. Then locks were turning, and she was out of the house. By the time Eileen had fought her way free of blankets, Claire was halfway down the front steps.

“What the hell are you doing?” she shouted after her, clomping onto the porch.

Claire wheeled around. “What do you think? I’m going to the diner, and I’m calling a cab. Because I’d rather blow my money on a freaking cab ride home than stay in this house.”

“It’s my van. I’m allowed to lie about it however much I want!”

Eileen knew she was acting batshit, but there was no way back from this place. She and Claire had dug their trenches. It was battle time.

“Yeah, keep your van.” Claire threw out her arms. “You stick around here, Leenie, as long as you want. Whatever you’re waiting for, searching for, it’s creepy. I’m not here for it, and neither is Murphy.”

Murphy was hanging at Eileen’s side, eyes wide. “I … I … ,” she stammered, patting inexplicably at her purple puffer coat.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Eileen,” Claire said, “but figure it out, okay? I paid the expenses for your trip, and all you’ve done is look through those boxes for … what? What?”

Sparks showered in Eileen’s chest, igniting, exploding.

“Don’t you dare,” she said, through gritted teeth. Salt-gorged wind was biting her face and tears stinging her eyes. She stomped down the porch steps until she was a foot from Claire. “You paid expenses because that’s the only way you could come on this trip. You wanted to know what you’d inherited and how many Chanel purses you could buy with the proceeds. Which, spoiler alert, you won’t get till Murphy’s eighteen and we can sell the house.”

Claire tried to speak over her, but Eileen talked the loudest. “So stop being a self-righteous pain in my ass. No one asked you to come here. Or to apply to a fellowship on my behalf. Or to lecture me, when you’ve got enough goddamn problems of your own.”

“What problems?” Claire near-shrieked. “What problems do I have? Obviously it’s something big and bad, for you to move out of our room and pretend I don’t exist.”

Eileen scoffed. “You stopped talking to me. Because you thought you were better. With your makeup. And your designer necklaces. And your fucking Harper Everly videos. With your whole perfect life, all planned out. You wanna know your problem, Claire? You’re a self-righteous bitch.”

“It’s…” Claire seemed to be searching for words, but nothing came out. How could she fight what she knew to be true?

Then the uncertainty in her face disappeared.

“Fine,” she spat, and Eileen felt the heat of her breath. “If that’s what you think of me, fine. Better to be a bitch than a burned-out drunk like you.”

“You guys!” Murphy cried, at their backs. “Guys, stop.”

“Murphy, shut up!” Claire shrieked. “You don’t know anything about this!”

“But you—”

“MURPH, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, NOT NOW!” Eileen shouted, whirling around.

Immediately, she regretted it. Murphy shrank toward the house, looking small and terrified, like a hunted rabbit.

“Come on,” Claire called to her. “We’re leaving.”

But Murphy was shaking her head. “I’m not going anywhere. Not with either of you.”

She turned and ran into the house.

“Great,” Claire threw a hand at Eileen. “Great job.”

“Seriously?” Eileen laughed darkly. “That’s my fault?”

They locked eyes, and in one moment Eileen saw everything: pillow fights and late-night talks, confessions and reveals, sing-alongs and inside jokes, poolside chats in summertime, cafeteria lunches, and Cayenne Castle, and every moment they’d shared. She saw all that in Claire’s cold, blue stare.

The visions vanished. Claire had turned away, walking fast across wet gravel, headed for the road

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