Chapter 1

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I lugged my suitcase down the stairs of the mansion. It saddened me to see the familiar walls that I knew I would never see again. Soon, my home would be sold, but I wouldn't be there when it was.

I wished we had kept the servants for just a day longer, though. The suitcase was too heavy for me to carry. I just left it at the bottom of the stairwell and walked over to the front door. Perhaps the driver will be kind enough to help me, I thought. When I opened the doors, though, there was no one outside.

I sighed and peered up at the grandfather clock nearby. It read ten in the morning, right on the dot. The limousine was supposed to be there to drive me to the airport. I couldn't imagine my grand-mère, which meant grandmother, being purposely late. I wondered what was delaying them. It was probably just traffic or something like that.

I was grateful, though. It meant I would get a few more minutes with my family. I shut the door and turned around, expecting my brother to be there. He had promised he would see me off, but he wasn't there. Where would he be? I frowned. I knew he would never let me leave without saying goodbye, and when I passed his bedroom earlier, his bed was made perfectly. Where would he have been?

A thought came to mind that perhaps he was still with Mother. Our mother was Anne-Sophie de Grantaine. The Grantaine company had just fallen out, leaving us much debt. We had to sell the mansion to pay it off.

She was a very frail and sick woman, so she was often put on bed rest. I ran up quickly to her bedroom. I didn't want to leave without seeing them. That would be a nightmare, and I knew my grandmother wouldn't care.

Once I reached the room, I caught my breath and knocked on the door. I opened it slowly and whispered, "Maman?" There was no response. I opened it all the way to see she was not in her bed. The covers were a mess, but the curtains were open, letting light stream in. What's going on?

I raced back downstairs. I noticed the car was then five minutes late. Everything was so strange and quiet. Granted there wasn't the familiar sound of the servants bustling about, but it was still too silent for comfort. It was making me far too uneasy. Something had happened, and I wasn't sure what.

The only other room I thought they would be in was the living room. Were they waiting for me there? It didn't seem right, but it was worth a shot. I changed my course for the living area. I opened the door and exclaimed, "Maman! I'm so glad I finally found you!" My smile dropped when I saw she was still in her nightgown, sobbing into her hands. René, my brother, still wasn't with her.

I sat next to her on the couch and shushed, "Maman, calm down! You'll make your condition worse! What's wrong? Where is René?"

She cried, "He left an hour ago with your grandmother, Amarante."

"No, you must be mistaken. I'm supposed to leave with Grandmother soon. He's staying with you," I explained.

"She took him at nine o'clock," she insisted. A wave of shock hit me. Everything was finally making sense. Why would the car be late? It wasn't. It couldn't be late if it wasn't coming in the first place. Not to mention why René's room indicated he was awake but was nowhere to be found.

"But that wasn't what we agreed on! He promised!" I protested. I rose from the sofa and looked out the window, down the road the car would have driven away from the house. I imagined what that sight must have looked like. I hadn't even been there to see it.

"I'm so sorry, Amarante. He left instead of you," Mama continued to cry. My own tears began to fall, but they weren't necessarily sad. They were bitter and angry.

How dare he do that! René just didn't want to give up the luxurious life! He wanted to keep living in a world where we had no problems! He didn't care about what happened to Mother and me. All he wanted was to continue riding around in fancy cars, having servants tend to every whim, and eating exotic foods prepared by the best chefs. He was selfish, and we were the ones who would pay the price. I should have known by how he kept pushing for him to be the one to leave. He had always enjoyed being upper-class. All the signs had been in front of me, but I just hadn't wanted to believe it. I didn't want to believe my brother was that type of person.

I whispered, angrier about that than anything else, "He didn't even say goodbye...."


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