Glass: Chapter 4

“Really, Anastasia. There’s no need to look so glum.”

My mother sits across from me. Angelica Westin looks perfectly at home here, her heeled ankles crossed elegantly as she sips from a glass of champagne, courtesy of the mini refrigerator built into the limousine sent to bring us to our new home. The silk blue dress she’s wearing looks expensive. I haven’t seen her wearing it before.

Not Angelica Westin anymore, I remind myself.

And I am no longer Anastasia Westin.

No. At the moment, I’m an Ellis. I think.

Or maybe a Green.

I lost count a while back.

I’m about to ask my mother, but she’s frowning at me, so I close my mouth abruptly. “This is a happy day, you know. You could at least look grateful. It was very kind of William to send this car for us.”

Ah, yes. William. The new flavor of the month.

I wonder how long this one will last. I hope he’s nicer than the last one. Edward was ruddy-faced and merry. At least until he’d had a few drinks. Then his fists did the talking.

We didn’t stay there long. And now we’re making our way through endless winding green fields, through gently weaving yellow miles of corn and orchards that look perfect for climbing. At least the scenery is pretty.

“How will I get to school?” I blurt out. Another new school. Something else I’ve lost count of. My mother only rolls her eyes.

“William has a tutor that attends the house. Easier all around.”

“He hired a tutor for me?” I ask with a frown. It seems… excessive.

My mother shifts a little, the only sign of discomfort she allows herself. I narrow my eyes. “Mother.”

She sniffs. “He has sons, I believe. Three.”

I stare at her. “Three sons? How old?”

She waves a hand. “Around your age. One is a little older, I think. It will be nice for you to have siblings.”

I let my head thump against the side of the car. Excellent.

I don’t want fake brothers, or a tutor. I want stability, and a proper school. I want a home.

None of that is in the cards for me. Not as long as my mother is in charge. But that won’t be forever. As soon as I’m old enough, I’m taking out every loan I can and heading to the first college in Sorelle that accepts me.

Freedom.

But in the meantime, I’m left to trudge along in the wake of my mother’s many broken relationships.

She straightens in her seat, a smile spreading across her face. “Well, now. This will do nicely, I think.”

Turning, I stare morosely out of the window. And my eyes widen.

The house rises up in front of our eyes as we head down the hill. Not a house. A mansion. Red bricks cover several stories, broken only by large, beautiful glass windows. Ivory pillars prop up a balcony that runs the length of the house on the second floor, ivy winding around them prettily.

“Are you sure this is it?” It looks like a school. Or a hotel.

“Oakbourne Manor,” my mother breathes. “William did say it was on the large side.”

That’s an understatement. But we’re already pulling up, and I catch sight of the people waiting outside.

Four of them. An older man paces in front of the younger three. It looks as though he’s lecturing them. They all have their arms crossed, mutinous expressions on their faces as they turn towards us, and I shrink back instinctively. “Mother. I don’t think—,”

“You never do think,” my mother shoots back. “This is about our future, Anastasia. William is a good man. And a rich one. So smile, and be polite. Understand?”

I bite the inside of my cheek heavily. “Understood.”

I know the rules. I’ve played this part before, more times than I can count. So I climb out behind my mother, carefully smoothing out the creases in the new green-checked dress she gave me to wear this morning. My shoes pinch at my toes, black and shiny and new as I stand there awkwardly and wait.

My mother throws herself at the man I’m assuming – hoping – is William with a delighted squeal that hurts my eardrums. “Darling! I missed you so much.”

He lets out a bright, delighted laugh as he swings her around. “I missed you too, Angelica. I’m so happy you’re here.”

I freeze as he looks over her shoulder. He’s a handsome man, wavy blonde hair and deep blue eyes with laughter creases in the corners. He grins at me. “You must be Anastasia. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.”

He sounds genuine, and my muscles unlock slightly. “Thank you, Mr Tate.”

He throws back his head in a laugh. “Please, call me Will, or William,” he says in a begging tone. “Mr Tate makes me feel awfully old.”

My mother slaps his chest playfully. “Nonsense. You’re not old at all.”

He grimaces. “Tell that to my wrinkles.”

His self-deprecating tone threatens to draw a smile, and he points at me. “Ah! I see it. Let it go, Anastasia. I promise we’re a smile-friendly household.”

He’s so… friendly. I can’t help it. I smile at him, and he grins back at me. “There we go. I know it’s awkward, meeting new people. But we don’t bite, I promise. Why don’t you come and meet my sons?”

Hesitantly, I shuffle forwards. My mother is already embracing them, one after the other, each hug looking more awkward than the last. The boy on the end actually steps back to get away from her, only acquiescing when William clears his throat.

“So, Anastasia,” he says brightly. His hand rests gently on my shoulder as he points. “These are my twins, Kit and Rafe. Yes, they are identical, but we somehow managed to end up with two different hair and eye colors. One of those genetic quirks, but I’ve always been able to tell them apart because of it, so I can’t complain. They’re only two years older than you. You’re fifteen, am I right?”

I nod, taking them in. It’s… strange. Their faces truly are identical, down to the dimple. But one is dark, one blonde. One pair of violet eyes, one pair of deep green. Only the blonde has a slight crook in his nose, as though it’s been broken and reset. They both stare at me.

“Hello,” I whisper. They mumble greetings back, and William points me towards the older boy.

“This is my eldest,” he says proudly. “Silas.”

Deep blue eyes regard me warily, before he dips his head in a brief greeting. “Welcome to our home, Anastasia.”

His voice sounds stilted, but I try to smile anyway. “Thank you.”

William squeezes my shoulder again, gently nudging me towards the house. “Excellent. Come on inside, and we’ll give you a tour. I picked out a bedroom I thought you’d like, but there’s a few for you to choose from if you’d prefer, and we’ll get it set up.”

He pauses, and I look up at him.

“I hope you’ll feel at home here, Anastasia,” he says gently. “Truly. I care very much for your mother, and I hope you know that includes you, too.”

That’s… more than anyone else has ever given me. My smile feels wobbly, but he nods in understanding as he leads me towards the house, my mother on his other side.

I twist my head back to look over my shoulder.

But the gravel courtyard is empty.