To Violet's supreme disappointment, there was not a cacophony of slamming doors and pounding feet running to greet her. She didn't show it.
Instead, to Jeremy's utter disgust, she raised her gypsy skirts, exposing far more of her legs than was appropriate and flounced past him.
Annette was sitting at the piano, determined not to give Violet the satisfaction of seeing her nervous. More than her disgust for her, Annette feared her older sister.
She heard the door open, and then shut. A tingle ran down her spine, but continued playing the sonata. Beethoven is my friend, she told herself, and continued to play until she reached the part she could never get. She let out a tiny shriek, and started to replay it, when a tiny pale hand reached over her shoulder and played the segment perfectly.
"Hello, Violet." Annette said coolly.
"Hello, Annette." said Violet, moving to the side so Annette could see her. "What? No hug for your big sister?"
Annette regarded her sister carelessly. "You're not my sister." she said with polite frigidness that would have pleased her mother.
Hurt flashed across Violet's eyes, but she recovered quickly. "My, my, what a discourteous little girl Evelyn is raising."
Annette ignored the bait. "What are you doing here?"
Violet sat down in Jeremy's special leather chair without being asked. Her feet dangled an inch above the floor, and she swung them casually. "I've come to see Christian. And his wife." she snorted. "That is, if he really has one. Why anyone would marry that mouse is beyond me."
"Like manners are?" Annette jibed.
"Ooh. What a barb. Dear me, Annette, I'm hurt."
Annette ignored her. "Yes, he's married."
Violet let out a stream of crystal laughter. "What a pleasant development. Let me guess: she's a plain little thing, as much a mouse as he is, and wouldn't say boo to a goose."
Annette looked at Violet for a moment before bursting out laughter in an unladylike fashion.
"Oh, Violet-" she said between laughs. "If you only knew how wrong you were."
Violet did not enjoy being laughed at, and frowned. She was about to say something when the door was opened.
And there, looking serene, regal, and completely in control of her gilded world, was Evelyn.
She smiled, but Annette could see the strain of the normally genial expression.
"Why, Violet dear, you've come home. How pleasant. You must stay for a while." Evelyn had crossed the room, and now extended her hand to Violet.
Violet pushed her hand away.
"No kiss, Violet?" asked Evelyn in a hurt tone. She had never quite understood Violet's deep-rooted hatred for her. "Very well." She turned to Annette. "Darling, go run and fetch your brothers and Julia. We're having an early dinner in honor of Violet's arrival." she smiled at Violet. "Come, dear, we have so much to catch up on." Once more, Evelyn extended her hand. Violet got up, ignoring Evelyn's gesture. Annette made a face, and ran from the room.
~*~
Evelyn, the considerate lady of society she was, had remembered Violet's favorites, and had asked for them to be served that night. A garden salad, sweet bread, caramelized carrots, a standing rib roast, and for dessert, light, fluffy creme brulée.
By magic, when Violet and Evelyn arrived in the dining room, everyone was already seated.
Violet let her eyes move around the table. First was the empty head of the table near the door. Then was Thomas, her despicable little worm of a half-brother. Then was Gregory, the only brother she considered half-way decent. Then another empty chair. Then, like the king, reigned Jeremy. Then Christian's wife, then Christian, then Annette.
Christian's wife was not, as she had thought, a 'plain little thing'. Violet had to admit that she was quite possibly the most stunning woman she had ever seen. Violet could just see her profile, but she was immediately transfixed. She sat up straight, her backbone stiff as a ramrod that years of good breeding had instilled, just as Evelyn sat, and Annette. Her beautiful mane of red- was it copper-colored? Flame?- hair was piled up on her head. Her skin was as creamy as her own, her lips a faint pink, a perfect nose, and ice blue eyes.
She did not give Violet the satisfaction of turning to look at her. Instead, like the woman of culture Violet was now sure she was, she totally ignored the scandal and stared at the wall ahead.
Violet snapped herself out of it. She was Christian's wife, and she was little prettier than she had expected her to be. Big deal.
But Violet was suddenly more aware of her chaotic cloud of black hair, which she was normally so proud of. Now all she wanted to do was to pull it back into a respectable chignon. Her own nose, which was a perfectly acceptable nose, seemed big and out of proportion. And most of all, her violet eyes, which were her biggest source of pride, which were so unique, now seemed freakish and bizarre.
As quickly as she had entered her funk, she snapped out of it. She lifted her head, her large silver hoops flashing in the light.
She knew that the other head of the table was for Evelyn. She knew it. But, like a naughty little child, she knew what she wanted to do, and it was more important.
And so, Violet flounced herself into Evelyn's chair.
That caught everyone's attention, and Violet got her first glance at Christian's wife's face. She looked like the women in the famous paintings Violet had seen.
Jeremy coughed. "Violet, that's your mother's seat. Get up immediately."
"My mother's dead." said Violet sweetly, slumping in the seat and kicking the table leg.
"Get UP." said Jeremy in a low, dangerous voice.
Violet smirked. "Gee, I think chivalry is dead. Is that any way to treat a lady?"
"I treat ladies by the way they behave. And you are not acting like a lady." Jeremy said bitingly. "Get up. Now."
Glaring, Violet stood up. "Fine. I don't like this seat anyway."
She ran down to her own seat and threw herself into it. The chair creaked.
Violet smiled at Christian's wife. She did not smile back.
"In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit," started Evelyn, crossing herself. Everyone followed her but Violet. "Bless us, oh Lord, and these Your gifts, which we are about to receive from Your bounty through Christ Our Lord, Amen."
"Amen." repeated everyone but Violet, who regarded the entire business with a lip curled in disgust.
"Children, have you said hello to your sister?" prompted Evelyn, allowing Chauncy to spread a napkin over her lap.
"Hello." chorused Christian, Gregory and Thomas. Christian's wife, Violet noticed, said nothing, but set forth a little smile.
"So, Christian." Violet said, taking a bite of bread. "I heard you got married. Whose the little wifey-girl?"
Christian looked disgusted. "Swallow first, then speak, please, Violet. I have no desire to see your masticated food."
Annette developed a sudden coughing fit in order to hide her laughter.
"Violet, this is my wife Julia. Darling, this is Violet."
Satine did not see what was so bad about Violet. She hadn't heard anything that made her seem that bad. In fact, everything she did sounded like a bit of light-hearted fun.
But the entire family wanted her to be a certain way. Christian expected it. His family expected it. It was not a pressure she was entirely unused to, but she did not enjoy it.
They expected her to be haughty and cold. Done. The North Pole was her muse.
"How do you do?" she said coldly, bowing her head in a nod that passed as a greeting.
Every good thought Violet had for Julia before disappeared. Obviously she was the same as the rest of them.
"I do fine, Jules. And yourself?" she said. She had disregarded the normal protocol that dining required and was lounging in her chair.
Satine- or was she Julia?- nodded coldly, this time an unspoken 'yes'.
Violet's eyes searched her's, troubled. Something was different about this one, Violet thought.
Satine felt unsettled. Who was she? She was supposed to be Julia. She was Julia. She had been Julia, and then she was supposed to be Satine, so she became Satine. Now she was Satine, and she was supposed to be Julia. The two names whirled around Satine's head. No, not Satine's head, Julia's head, she corrected herself. I'm supposed to be Julia. Julia Julia Julia Julia...
WHO AM I???????? Screamed Satine, putting her fingertips to her temples.
For a moment she was unsure as to whether or not she had said these words aloud. Every member of the Deveraux clan was watching her.
Satine released a breath she didn't know she had been holding. As she inhaled the confusing tumult of Julias and Satines spun in her head, and she knew she had to escape or unravel in front of everybody.
In a strained voice she managed: "May I please be excused?"
"Certainly, dear." said Evelyn smoothly, and without so much as a glance at Christian Satine made her escape.
When she stopped moving she found herself in the library. She sank into a leather chair facing away from the wall. She curled up into it, hugging an embroidered pillow to her chest. Ha ha, no one can see me, she chanted childishly in her head.
See who? Julia? Satine? Who are you, little girl? Do you know? Do they know? Little girl? Who are you? Where are you from? Who are you? Julia? Julia? Who are you? Satine? Are you Satine? Or are you Julia? Answer me. Julia? Julia? Satine. Satine? Who are you, little girl? Where is your mommy and daddy? Are you lost? Don't sniffle. What's your name? Little girl? Little girl, what's your name?
Violet wasn't sure why, but she wanted to go after Julia. Ignoring the rumbling in her stomach and the tantalizing smell of the food, she smiled pleasantly at her father. "Daddy? May I be excused?"
"No." Dead-panned Jeremy, not looking up from his soup.
Christian coughed nervously. "May I?"
"Of course, darling." said Evelyn quickly.
"I sense favorism." sing-songed Violet as Christian disappeared.
Satine rubbed her temples, and with a deep breath she put an end to the madness. My name is Julia Marguerite Deveraux. J-U-L-I-A-space-M-A-R-G-U-E-R-I-T-E-space-D-E-V-E-R- A-U-X. And that's final.
Christian, by some odd reasoning possessed only by those in love, knew exactly where to find Satine, and quickly arrived in the library.
The room looked empty, but he didn't give up. There she was, curled up in a chair, her eyes shut and her fingers gently massaging her temples. Christian knelt besides her, and put a hand on her knee. "Hi." he said quietly.
Satine's eye lashes fluttered open, and for a moment she just looked at the man kneeling next to her. Then she smiled and drew him to her, allowing his arms to encircle her. She leaned her head on his shoulder and lay there for a while. His embrace was very soothing to Satine, and she moved away more relaxed.
"What happened?" he asked with concern in his voice.
"I had a headache." she lied, biting her lip. She had never lied to Christian before.
Christian was instantly anxious. "Are you alright?"
She nodded. "I'm fine. All better, see?" she flashed a bright smile to cinch the act.
Christian was watching her warily and gauging her appearance. Satine remembered with a sinking stomach how easy her expression was to read- but only to Christian.
"And what brought on that headache?" he asked carefully.
She laughed lightly and moved to stand up. "I'm fine." she pressed.
"You don't have to lie to me." Christian whispered, and they were both struck at the same moment with the reminiscence of those words. Had that been just a few weeks before that Christian had said that to her?
Satine bit back tears that she wasn't quite sure of their origin. Christian brushed back his hair.
"I'm just... having some trouble adjusting." she said, exhaling.
"To what, my love?" he asked in a tone that brought Satine even closer to tears. He was right. How could she be having trouble? She was no longer the top courtesan. No longer the Sparkling Diamond. He had taken her away from all that. He was "making an honest woman of her". He was going to marry her. He had brought her into a family that was wonderful and that seemed to love her. He loved her. What was there to adjust to? Being wanted? Being loved?
Being honest?
But I'm not honest! her mind screamed.
Compared to what you were before, you are.
No, I'm not! I'm lying about who I am!
You're Julia. Don't be absurd.
Yes, I'm Julia. But I'm not a deposed socialite. I'm not a lost debutante who lost my mummy and daddy. I'm just... just...
See?
Oh, shut up.
Christian watched her eyes with growing concern. "Darling?"
Satine shook her head, and banished every thought from her head, leaving her mind soothingly blank. "I'm fine." she smiled affirmatively. "Shall we go back to dinner?"
Satine turned around and started towards the dining room.
~*~
"Julia, darling," started Evelyn. "I was thinking of going shopping tomorrow. What do you think?"
Satine quickly swallowed her dessert. "I'd love to."
Evelyn smiled pleasantly. "After all, there's so much to do before the wedding. Have you decided a date, yet?"
Christian and Satine exchanged a glance before Christian spoke. "We were thinking of sometime in June, Mother."
Evelyn put a hand to her chest. "Oh, won't that be lovely. Julia, as a summer bride. Well, my darling, we haven't a minute to spare. June is but a few months away. We need..." Evelyn started ticking items off her fingers. "Invitations, a caterer, to arrange it with the church, flowers to decide, bridesmaids dresses..."
Violet swirled her spoon in her creme brulée. "I think we'll just die of sheer excitement!" she gushed sarcastically. "And here I thought they were already married."
"They are." defended Annette hotly. "They're getting remarried in our church."
"Violet." said Jeremy warningly.
Violet made a noise in the back of her throat. "I honestly don't get it. I make an innocent comment and Little Miss Holier-than-thou jumps down my throat and Daddy Dearest gets on my case."
"And you honestly need social skills." stated Christian. "Get over it."
Violet's jaw dropped. Here she was, being ripped apart, and no one was doing a thing about it. Evelyn was preoccupied with her dessert, Julia could care less, Annette was glaring, Christian had an awfully patronizing look on his face, Jeremy looked murderous, and Thomas just was disturbed.
Gregory, however, was looking at his older sister with what looked like respect. And at that moment, an realization made itself known.
Violet had a new ally.
Instead, to Jeremy's utter disgust, she raised her gypsy skirts, exposing far more of her legs than was appropriate and flounced past him.
Annette was sitting at the piano, determined not to give Violet the satisfaction of seeing her nervous. More than her disgust for her, Annette feared her older sister.
She heard the door open, and then shut. A tingle ran down her spine, but continued playing the sonata. Beethoven is my friend, she told herself, and continued to play until she reached the part she could never get. She let out a tiny shriek, and started to replay it, when a tiny pale hand reached over her shoulder and played the segment perfectly.
"Hello, Violet." Annette said coolly.
"Hello, Annette." said Violet, moving to the side so Annette could see her. "What? No hug for your big sister?"
Annette regarded her sister carelessly. "You're not my sister." she said with polite frigidness that would have pleased her mother.
Hurt flashed across Violet's eyes, but she recovered quickly. "My, my, what a discourteous little girl Evelyn is raising."
Annette ignored the bait. "What are you doing here?"
Violet sat down in Jeremy's special leather chair without being asked. Her feet dangled an inch above the floor, and she swung them casually. "I've come to see Christian. And his wife." she snorted. "That is, if he really has one. Why anyone would marry that mouse is beyond me."
"Like manners are?" Annette jibed.
"Ooh. What a barb. Dear me, Annette, I'm hurt."
Annette ignored her. "Yes, he's married."
Violet let out a stream of crystal laughter. "What a pleasant development. Let me guess: she's a plain little thing, as much a mouse as he is, and wouldn't say boo to a goose."
Annette looked at Violet for a moment before bursting out laughter in an unladylike fashion.
"Oh, Violet-" she said between laughs. "If you only knew how wrong you were."
Violet did not enjoy being laughed at, and frowned. She was about to say something when the door was opened.
And there, looking serene, regal, and completely in control of her gilded world, was Evelyn.
She smiled, but Annette could see the strain of the normally genial expression.
"Why, Violet dear, you've come home. How pleasant. You must stay for a while." Evelyn had crossed the room, and now extended her hand to Violet.
Violet pushed her hand away.
"No kiss, Violet?" asked Evelyn in a hurt tone. She had never quite understood Violet's deep-rooted hatred for her. "Very well." She turned to Annette. "Darling, go run and fetch your brothers and Julia. We're having an early dinner in honor of Violet's arrival." she smiled at Violet. "Come, dear, we have so much to catch up on." Once more, Evelyn extended her hand. Violet got up, ignoring Evelyn's gesture. Annette made a face, and ran from the room.
~*~
Evelyn, the considerate lady of society she was, had remembered Violet's favorites, and had asked for them to be served that night. A garden salad, sweet bread, caramelized carrots, a standing rib roast, and for dessert, light, fluffy creme brulée.
By magic, when Violet and Evelyn arrived in the dining room, everyone was already seated.
Violet let her eyes move around the table. First was the empty head of the table near the door. Then was Thomas, her despicable little worm of a half-brother. Then was Gregory, the only brother she considered half-way decent. Then another empty chair. Then, like the king, reigned Jeremy. Then Christian's wife, then Christian, then Annette.
Christian's wife was not, as she had thought, a 'plain little thing'. Violet had to admit that she was quite possibly the most stunning woman she had ever seen. Violet could just see her profile, but she was immediately transfixed. She sat up straight, her backbone stiff as a ramrod that years of good breeding had instilled, just as Evelyn sat, and Annette. Her beautiful mane of red- was it copper-colored? Flame?- hair was piled up on her head. Her skin was as creamy as her own, her lips a faint pink, a perfect nose, and ice blue eyes.
She did not give Violet the satisfaction of turning to look at her. Instead, like the woman of culture Violet was now sure she was, she totally ignored the scandal and stared at the wall ahead.
Violet snapped herself out of it. She was Christian's wife, and she was little prettier than she had expected her to be. Big deal.
But Violet was suddenly more aware of her chaotic cloud of black hair, which she was normally so proud of. Now all she wanted to do was to pull it back into a respectable chignon. Her own nose, which was a perfectly acceptable nose, seemed big and out of proportion. And most of all, her violet eyes, which were her biggest source of pride, which were so unique, now seemed freakish and bizarre.
As quickly as she had entered her funk, she snapped out of it. She lifted her head, her large silver hoops flashing in the light.
She knew that the other head of the table was for Evelyn. She knew it. But, like a naughty little child, she knew what she wanted to do, and it was more important.
And so, Violet flounced herself into Evelyn's chair.
That caught everyone's attention, and Violet got her first glance at Christian's wife's face. She looked like the women in the famous paintings Violet had seen.
Jeremy coughed. "Violet, that's your mother's seat. Get up immediately."
"My mother's dead." said Violet sweetly, slumping in the seat and kicking the table leg.
"Get UP." said Jeremy in a low, dangerous voice.
Violet smirked. "Gee, I think chivalry is dead. Is that any way to treat a lady?"
"I treat ladies by the way they behave. And you are not acting like a lady." Jeremy said bitingly. "Get up. Now."
Glaring, Violet stood up. "Fine. I don't like this seat anyway."
She ran down to her own seat and threw herself into it. The chair creaked.
Violet smiled at Christian's wife. She did not smile back.
"In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit," started Evelyn, crossing herself. Everyone followed her but Violet. "Bless us, oh Lord, and these Your gifts, which we are about to receive from Your bounty through Christ Our Lord, Amen."
"Amen." repeated everyone but Violet, who regarded the entire business with a lip curled in disgust.
"Children, have you said hello to your sister?" prompted Evelyn, allowing Chauncy to spread a napkin over her lap.
"Hello." chorused Christian, Gregory and Thomas. Christian's wife, Violet noticed, said nothing, but set forth a little smile.
"So, Christian." Violet said, taking a bite of bread. "I heard you got married. Whose the little wifey-girl?"
Christian looked disgusted. "Swallow first, then speak, please, Violet. I have no desire to see your masticated food."
Annette developed a sudden coughing fit in order to hide her laughter.
"Violet, this is my wife Julia. Darling, this is Violet."
Satine did not see what was so bad about Violet. She hadn't heard anything that made her seem that bad. In fact, everything she did sounded like a bit of light-hearted fun.
But the entire family wanted her to be a certain way. Christian expected it. His family expected it. It was not a pressure she was entirely unused to, but she did not enjoy it.
They expected her to be haughty and cold. Done. The North Pole was her muse.
"How do you do?" she said coldly, bowing her head in a nod that passed as a greeting.
Every good thought Violet had for Julia before disappeared. Obviously she was the same as the rest of them.
"I do fine, Jules. And yourself?" she said. She had disregarded the normal protocol that dining required and was lounging in her chair.
Satine- or was she Julia?- nodded coldly, this time an unspoken 'yes'.
Violet's eyes searched her's, troubled. Something was different about this one, Violet thought.
Satine felt unsettled. Who was she? She was supposed to be Julia. She was Julia. She had been Julia, and then she was supposed to be Satine, so she became Satine. Now she was Satine, and she was supposed to be Julia. The two names whirled around Satine's head. No, not Satine's head, Julia's head, she corrected herself. I'm supposed to be Julia. Julia Julia Julia Julia...
WHO AM I???????? Screamed Satine, putting her fingertips to her temples.
For a moment she was unsure as to whether or not she had said these words aloud. Every member of the Deveraux clan was watching her.
Satine released a breath she didn't know she had been holding. As she inhaled the confusing tumult of Julias and Satines spun in her head, and she knew she had to escape or unravel in front of everybody.
In a strained voice she managed: "May I please be excused?"
"Certainly, dear." said Evelyn smoothly, and without so much as a glance at Christian Satine made her escape.
When she stopped moving she found herself in the library. She sank into a leather chair facing away from the wall. She curled up into it, hugging an embroidered pillow to her chest. Ha ha, no one can see me, she chanted childishly in her head.
See who? Julia? Satine? Who are you, little girl? Do you know? Do they know? Little girl? Who are you? Where are you from? Who are you? Julia? Julia? Who are you? Satine? Are you Satine? Or are you Julia? Answer me. Julia? Julia? Satine. Satine? Who are you, little girl? Where is your mommy and daddy? Are you lost? Don't sniffle. What's your name? Little girl? Little girl, what's your name?
Violet wasn't sure why, but she wanted to go after Julia. Ignoring the rumbling in her stomach and the tantalizing smell of the food, she smiled pleasantly at her father. "Daddy? May I be excused?"
"No." Dead-panned Jeremy, not looking up from his soup.
Christian coughed nervously. "May I?"
"Of course, darling." said Evelyn quickly.
"I sense favorism." sing-songed Violet as Christian disappeared.
Satine rubbed her temples, and with a deep breath she put an end to the madness. My name is Julia Marguerite Deveraux. J-U-L-I-A-space-M-A-R-G-U-E-R-I-T-E-space-D-E-V-E-R- A-U-X. And that's final.
Christian, by some odd reasoning possessed only by those in love, knew exactly where to find Satine, and quickly arrived in the library.
The room looked empty, but he didn't give up. There she was, curled up in a chair, her eyes shut and her fingers gently massaging her temples. Christian knelt besides her, and put a hand on her knee. "Hi." he said quietly.
Satine's eye lashes fluttered open, and for a moment she just looked at the man kneeling next to her. Then she smiled and drew him to her, allowing his arms to encircle her. She leaned her head on his shoulder and lay there for a while. His embrace was very soothing to Satine, and she moved away more relaxed.
"What happened?" he asked with concern in his voice.
"I had a headache." she lied, biting her lip. She had never lied to Christian before.
Christian was instantly anxious. "Are you alright?"
She nodded. "I'm fine. All better, see?" she flashed a bright smile to cinch the act.
Christian was watching her warily and gauging her appearance. Satine remembered with a sinking stomach how easy her expression was to read- but only to Christian.
"And what brought on that headache?" he asked carefully.
She laughed lightly and moved to stand up. "I'm fine." she pressed.
"You don't have to lie to me." Christian whispered, and they were both struck at the same moment with the reminiscence of those words. Had that been just a few weeks before that Christian had said that to her?
Satine bit back tears that she wasn't quite sure of their origin. Christian brushed back his hair.
"I'm just... having some trouble adjusting." she said, exhaling.
"To what, my love?" he asked in a tone that brought Satine even closer to tears. He was right. How could she be having trouble? She was no longer the top courtesan. No longer the Sparkling Diamond. He had taken her away from all that. He was "making an honest woman of her". He was going to marry her. He had brought her into a family that was wonderful and that seemed to love her. He loved her. What was there to adjust to? Being wanted? Being loved?
Being honest?
But I'm not honest! her mind screamed.
Compared to what you were before, you are.
No, I'm not! I'm lying about who I am!
You're Julia. Don't be absurd.
Yes, I'm Julia. But I'm not a deposed socialite. I'm not a lost debutante who lost my mummy and daddy. I'm just... just...
See?
Oh, shut up.
Christian watched her eyes with growing concern. "Darling?"
Satine shook her head, and banished every thought from her head, leaving her mind soothingly blank. "I'm fine." she smiled affirmatively. "Shall we go back to dinner?"
Satine turned around and started towards the dining room.
~*~
"Julia, darling," started Evelyn. "I was thinking of going shopping tomorrow. What do you think?"
Satine quickly swallowed her dessert. "I'd love to."
Evelyn smiled pleasantly. "After all, there's so much to do before the wedding. Have you decided a date, yet?"
Christian and Satine exchanged a glance before Christian spoke. "We were thinking of sometime in June, Mother."
Evelyn put a hand to her chest. "Oh, won't that be lovely. Julia, as a summer bride. Well, my darling, we haven't a minute to spare. June is but a few months away. We need..." Evelyn started ticking items off her fingers. "Invitations, a caterer, to arrange it with the church, flowers to decide, bridesmaids dresses..."
Violet swirled her spoon in her creme brulée. "I think we'll just die of sheer excitement!" she gushed sarcastically. "And here I thought they were already married."
"They are." defended Annette hotly. "They're getting remarried in our church."
"Violet." said Jeremy warningly.
Violet made a noise in the back of her throat. "I honestly don't get it. I make an innocent comment and Little Miss Holier-than-thou jumps down my throat and Daddy Dearest gets on my case."
"And you honestly need social skills." stated Christian. "Get over it."
Violet's jaw dropped. Here she was, being ripped apart, and no one was doing a thing about it. Evelyn was preoccupied with her dessert, Julia could care less, Annette was glaring, Christian had an awfully patronizing look on his face, Jeremy looked murderous, and Thomas just was disturbed.
Gregory, however, was looking at his older sister with what looked like respect. And at that moment, an realization made itself known.
Violet had a new ally.