Chapter 5
Emily admitted the shove.
Not the plan.
At first.
“You're ridiculous.”
She held ice against her jaw.
“You fell down four steps.”
“Five.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Congratulations.”
I stared.
She smiled.
“Want a medal?”
Mother stood behind her.
Dad stayed near the dining table.
I looked at my sister.
“You were supposed to push me after I signed.”
“No.”
“Dad said it.”
“Dad says lots of things when he's angry.”
Dad frowned.
“Emily.”
She ignored him.
I continued.
“Why after?”
She laughed.
“Maybe because watching you fall is more satisfying when you've already lost.”
Mother snapped:
“Enough.”
Emily turned.
“What?”
“That was not the agreement.”
Silence.
I looked at both.
“What agreement?”
Emily realized.
Too late.
Dad swore under his breath.
Mother's face became flat.
“Claire.”
“No.”
I stepped between them.
“Keep talking.”
Emily's smile returned.
“Why? So you can pretend you're shocked?”
“Try me.”
She looked at me.
“You think everyone wants you sitting at the head forever?”
“No.”
That surprised her.
“I know ambition exists.”
“Then stop acting betrayed.”
“You slapped my son for leverage.”
“That was Mom.”
Mother glared.
Emily shrugged.
“I'm not taking credit for everything.”
I almost smiled.
“What was your part?”
She looked at the stairs.
There.
Answer.
“To make sure you stayed home.”
“For how long?”
“A day.”
Dad interrupted:
“Two.”
Emily looked at him.
Again.
Different stories.
Good.
I crossed my arms.
“What kind of injury were you aiming for?”
Emily laughed.
“You make it sound like murder.”
“Answer.”
“A sprain.”
“And if I hit my head?”
She shrugged.
“Then maybe you'd finally slow down.”
I stared.
She believed that.
Mother sighed.
“Claire, stop dramatizing.”
I turned.
“If Evan hadn't run to me, I could've landed on him.”
Mother shrugged.
“But you didn't.”
My hands curled.
“So no harm.”
Evan's red cheek flashed in my mind.
No harm.
Their favorite phrase when the victim survived.
Dad stood.
“This is going nowhere.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
I picked up the black folder.
“It's going exactly where you planned.”
I opened it.
Read the internal declaration again.
Voluntary withdrawal.
Temporary command to Emily.
Witnessed by Robert and Diane Bennett.
No end date.
There.
Not temporary.
I looked at Emily.
“You didn't read this.”
Her face changed.
“What?”
Dad stepped forward.
“Claire.”
I turned the page toward her.
“No end date.”
Emily stared.
Mother said:
“That's normal.”
“No.”
Emily looked at Dad.
“You said six months.”
He said nothing.
Her face changed.
“Dad.”
Mother snapped:
“Not now.”
Emily stood.
“You said six months.”
I watched.
The third fracture.
Dad finally answered.
“Until stability.”
“That isn't what you said.”
Mother cut in.
“Would you rather Claire keep control?”
Emily stared.
“No.”
“Then sit down.”
Emily didn't.
Interesting.
She was cruel.
Ambitious.
Violent.
But apparently not included in every part of the plan.
I looked at the blank signature line.
“Who takes over after Emily?”
Nobody moved.
Emily turned slowly toward our parents.
“What?”
I kept my eyes on Dad.
“You didn't build this around her.”
Silence.
“She is the bridge.”
Mother's expression hardened.
I looked toward Evan's prepared bedroom.
Then the command declaration.
Then Dad.
“Who are you really putting in the chair?”
Dad looked at Mother.
Mother looked at the floor.
And Emily finally understood.
“This was never mine.”
No one answered.
She threw the ice pack onto the table.
“Who?”
Dad whispered:
“Robert Bennett Jr.”
I frowned.
I didn't have a brother.
Emily didn't either.
Then Mother said:
“Your cousin Robert's son.”
I stared.
A twenty-six-year-old Bennett I had deliberately kept outside command because he was reckless.
Emily looked stunned.
Dad continued:
“He keeps the old men comfortable.”
There it was.
Emily was not the successor.
May you like
She was the disposable face of my removal.
And my parents had already chosen who came after her.
