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her and another daughter, who I think had married some European playboy
and lived in France or Spain or something. When they died, they had to have
left money for Matt and I. And our father s parents had died before I was born,
and there had to be inheritance from that as well. The more I thought about,
the more I started thinking that Maggie had way more money than she let on.
She and Matt had never talked about it, but we both most have a pretty large
trust set up.
Maggie easily could ve lived like this. A beautiful house somewhere
with a nanny raising Matt and me. She could ve had the best cars, and paid off
every school that tried to expel me. As it was, she had never really fought any of
my punishments because she thought they were fair and I needed to learn
something. She could ve just added a wing to a school, and sent me off there to
work it out myself. Instead, she had made the choice that taking care of me
herself was more important than spending money. Before she had custody of
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me, she had been working because she wanted to, not because she needed to.
She had made a choice that my own mother never would have.
So you like shitake mushrooms, right? Rhys was saying. He had been
pulling things out of the fridge, but I had been too lost in thought to notice. His
arms were overflowing with vegetables.
Uh, yeah, I love mushrooms. I straightened up and tried see what all
he had, but for the most part, it looked like things I enjoyed.
Excellent. Rhys grinned at me and dropped his armload of food into
the kitchen sink. I m going to make you the best stir fry you ve ever tasted.
He went about chopping things up, and I offered to help him, but he
insisted that he could handle it. The whole time, he talked amicably about his
new motorcycle he d gotten last week. He d taken it out for a spin just before
he came in, and he mentioned all sorts of technical terms that I didn t
understand. I tried to keep up with it, but all I ever knew about motorcycles is
that they went fast and I liked it.
What are you making in here? Finn came into the kitchen, sounding
vaguely disgusted. His hair was damp from a recent shower, and he smelled like
the grass after a rain, only sweeter. He walked past me without even a glance in
my direction and went over to where Rhys had thrown everything into a wok
on the stove.
Stir fry! Rhys proclaimed.
Really? Finn leaned over his shoulder and peered down at the
ingredients in the pan. Rhys moved to the side a little so Finn could reach in
and grab something out of it. He sniffed it, then popped it into his mouth.
Well, it s not terrible.
Stop my beating heart! Rhys put his hand over his heart and feigned
astonishment. Has my food passed the test of the hardest food critic in the
land?
No. I just said it wasn t terrible. Finn shook his head at Rhys s
dramatics and went to the fridge to get a bottle of water. And I m certain that
Elora is a much harsher food critic than I ll ever be.
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That s probably true, but she s never let me cook for her, Rhys
admitted, shaking the wok to stir up the vegetables more.
You really shouldn t let him cook for you, Finn advised, looking at
me for the first time. He gave me food poisoning once.
You cannot get food poisoning from an orange! Rhys protested and
looked back at him. It s just not possible! And even if you can, I just handed
you the orange. I didn t even have a chance to contaminate it!
I don t know. Finn shrugged. A smile was creeping up, and I could
tell he was amused by how much Rhys was getting worked up.
You don t even eat the part I touched! You peeled it and threw the
skin away! Rhys sounded exasperated. He wasn t paying attention to the wok
as he struggled to convince us of his innocence, and a flame licked up from the
food.
Food s on fire, Finn nodded to the stove.
Dammit! Rhys got a glass of water and splashed it in the stir fry, and
I was starting to question how good this was going to taste when he was done
with it.
See? Finn looked at me, and I smiled. Did you sleep okay?
Yeah, I slept great, I nodded.
Good. He was standing next to me, looking as if he wanted to say
something but thought better of it. He just nodded and walked out of the
kitchen.
When Rhys finished cooking, his food was only moderately edible, but
I picked at it anyway. He pulled stools up to the island, explaining that he only
ate in the dining room when it was absolutely required. He soaked his food in
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