Chapter 4 - The Hallway of Echoes
The cool autumn air outside the banquet hall felt like cold water on a sunburn.
The country club’s terrace overlooked an immaculate eighteen-hole golf course, bathed in the silver light of a half-moon. Inside, through the tall French windows, we could see the guests pretending to eat their prime rib, while Diane moved frantically from table to table, clearly trying to spin some desperate narrative to Alan’s business partners.
Lily leaned against the stone balustrade, wrapping her bare arms around her silk halter dress, shivering slightly in the breeze.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, turning on me with eyes full of hurt and anger. "Why did you let me make a fool of myself?"
I stood two paces away, hands in the pockets of my slacks, looking out over the manicured grass. "Tell you what, Lily? You never asked."
"I never asked?!" Her voice cracked. "Every time you called home, you talked for five minutes, asked how Mom was, asked how my college was going, and said you were 'doing fine' on your ship! You never told me you were a Captain! You never told me you flew fighter jets!"
"I told you I was in an aviation squadron seven years ago," I replied evenly. "Do you remember what you said?"
Lily blinked, her breath catching in her throat.
"You told me that was nice, but you had to go because Alan was buying you a new BMW for your graduation," I said without malice, just stating the cold, historical fact. "Whenever I came home for Christmas, Mom made me change out of my uniform before Alan’s friends came over because she said service dress looked 'too masculine' and made Alan’s golf buddies uncomfortable. When I got promoted to Commander two years ago, I sent Mom a photo of the ceremony. Do you know what she sent back?"
Lily didn't answer. Her eyes widened slightly.
"She sent back a text saying, 'Great, honey. Lily just got promoted to Senior Marketing Associate at Alan’s firm! We’re having a party at the club.' That was it."
I took a step toward my little sister. The anger in her face was dissolving, replaced by the hollow, sickening realization of things she had chosen to ignore for a decade.
"I didn't hide my life from you, Lily," I said gently. "You and Mom just never looked. You were happy to accept Alan’s version of me: the dysfunctional older daughter who ran off to play soldier because she couldn't fit into his shiny little world."
"That’s not true," Lily whispered, but the defense had no weight. A single tear broke over her eyelashes, cutting a dark line through her makeup. "I... I thought you didn't care about us. Mom always said you stayed away because you resented her for remarrying."
"I stayed away because every time I stepped through that front door, Alan treated me like an employee who forgot to knock," I said. "And Mom let him do it because he paid off her debts, bought her that house in the hills, and put you through private school. I didn't hate them for it, Lily. But I wasn't going to let them strip my self-respect just to get an invitation to Thanksgiving."
Inside the hall, the terrace doors swung open.
Alan Brooks stepped out, holding a fresh drink. His tie was slightly loosened, his silver hair neatly combed, but his jaw was clenched tight. He looked at Lily, then turned his gaze on me with a calculating, sharp expression that I had seen on dozens of shady contractors over the years.
"Lily, your mother wants you inside to cut the groom’s cake," Alan said, his tone dismissive.
Lily hesitated, looking between Alan and me. "Alan, we were talking—"
"Go on, sweetheart," Alan interrupted smoothly, patting her shoulder. "Let me talk to your sister for a minute. Adult business."
Lily bit her lip, gave me one last, haunted look, and slipped back inside through the glass doors.
May you like
Alan waited until the latch clicked shut. He took a sip of his scotch, leaned against the stone railing, and looked at me with an oily, confident smile that made my stomach turn.
"Well, Nora," he said quietly. "You certainly pulled quite a little stunt in there."
