Page 21 of Line Change

“Hello, Sutton.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. She never greets me like that.

“What’s wrong, Anastasia?”

She blows out a breath, and I wipe my sweaty palms on my leggings. I grab the permanent marker from where I left it on the counter and spin it in my hand, needing something to fidget with.

“Grandmother died earlier this week. The funeral is tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry you have to go through that,” I tell her. I know she was my grandmother, but I haven’t talked to her in over fifteen years, not since I went no contact with my father. Even before I cut them off, I didn’t exactly like my grandmother. Her idea of a woman’s role in society was to have kids and help her husband further his career. For fuck’s sake. It’s the twenty-first century.

Anastasia mumbles something I can’t make out.

“What did you say?”

She’s silent for a few beats, and the sound of doors closing comes through the phone, then she’s speaking again, this time in a hushed tone. “He insisted I call you and tell you. I don’t … I didn’t want to come, but he demanded it …” She trails off, and I can guess what threats he made if she didn’t do as he asked.

“I’m sorry, Stasia.”

“I know.” She clears her throat. “I wish …”

She doesn’t have to say it, because I can guess what she’s thinking—she wishes she wasn’t at our father’s beck and call the way I’m not. And the only reason I’m not is because he knows if he tries to threaten me to make me come back, I’ll go to the press with the photographs I have. Photographs of him with the wife of his business partner. Photographs that would wreck his business, the only thing he cherishes in life, because he sure doesn’t cherish his children.

“I told you I’ll help you figure it out. Greg too, if he wants.” I don’t talk to Gregory, our youngest brother, much, mostly because he’s busy with college and the crew team. We exchange emails here and there.

“I know you did. I appreciate the offer, but I’m twenty-four, an adult, and I need to figure it out on my own. I’ve been saving money. I got a job. I’m tutoring a few high school kids a couple of days a week.”

“And what does he think you’re doing?”

“Living in the city, taking private tennis lessons, and helping the Women’s Club with their annual fundraisers.” I chuckle. “And I am. But that’s not all I’m doing.”

“Well, I’m here if there’s anything I can do to help. Or if you need a place to stay.” Although I currently don’t have my own place, but that’s neither here nor there. If she needed me, I’d figure it out.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “They’re reading her will on Monday. Father assumes she left everything to him, but I don’t know, she got kind of funny at the end.”

I blink at the abrupt change of conversation, turning over her words. “Funny, how?” Our grandmother was anything but funny. She was a terrible woman who cared about two things—money and status.

“Maybe not funny in the normal sense, but she said some things about how maybe she was wrong about her views. Alluded to wishing Grandfather hadn’t left Father the business. I don’t know … things I’d never heard her say before.”

“Huh.”

“I should go,” she says after a few beats of silence.

“Okay. Love you. Call me if you need me.”

“I love you too, Sutton. Bye.”

The line goes dead, and I set my phone down. Closing my eyes, I brace my hands on the counter, trying to calm my racing heart. I do not need any more stress in my life right now. Between the upheaval of having to move and being pregnant, I’ve reached my max capacity. I say a silent prayer to anyone or anything in the universe that’s listening that my grandmother’s death doesn’t drag me back into my father’s orbit. I crack open my eyes. One thing at a time. First, I have to get everything packed and moved out of here. Then I’ll figure out how to help my sister, send her money or help her find a job around here. I don’t know. I know she says she doesn’t need my help, but as the oldest, it feels as though it’s my responsibility to help my younger siblings.

I make my way back into the living room where I find Becca and Hadley hard at work packing. They look up when I walk into the room, and a swell of emotions threatens to overtake me. I swallow down the feelings and give them what I hope is a convincing smile.

“Thank you.” My voice cracks, and I take a shaky breath.

Becca jumps to her feet and hurries over to me, Hadley right behind her.

“What’s wrong?” Becca asks.

I shake my head, and she guides me over to the couch. I take a seat in the middle, Hadley and Becca on either side of me.