My graduation day… and that damn valedictorian's been hogging the stage for at least half an hour now. "This is a time for friends and family, for looking back and…" his voice drones on. I roll my eyes; someone laughs and I see Ben's face peering over the small group of chairs separating us. "I guess they figured four years wasn't long enough to make us wait," he says.

I chuckle sarcastically. "And at the rate he's –" I jerk my head toward the pompous fool onstage. "-going, it'll be four more."

Someone pokes me in the back, and I turn sharply. Raoul pretends to collapse in his chair behind me, giving an exaggerated snore. Several pairs of eyes turn to me as I laugh loudly. I get the joke; by the time this windbag finishes, he'll have bored us all to sleep.

A sudden hush falls over the room, and I glance up as the dean takes his place at the podium. Finally… I thought that idiot would never shut up! "Abbott… Adams… Allen…" I allow the dean's voice to wash over me. "Elliott… Emerson… Evans…" my head jerks up suddenly. He's only in the E's; I still have a ways to go… "Hanson… Henkel… Hill…" and finally, "Caledon Nathan Hockley!"

The dean smiles, vigorously pumping my arm. I stare past him to Professors Graham and Parker standing nearby with some of the other faculty, and a sudden pang of guilt stabs my heart as I remember Professor Reynaldi. If it hadn't been for me, he'd be standing here right now…

A roar of applause erupts as the dean hands me my diploma. I glance up to my family in the audience… my father clapping wildly, Aunt Rebecca dabbing her eyes, Abby jumping up and down, and Sarah just sitting stone-faced amid all the merriment.

Professor Parker motions me to move on, and the dean's voice rings out as I make my way back to my seat, "Inman… Jane… Jenkins…" then "Benntin Harrison Kaiche!" I join the cheering for Ben as he shakes the dean's hand; the applause, even louder than my own, nearly deafens me.

My eyes scan the crowd as the ceremony finally ends, searching for my family. I catch sight of reddish-brown curls bobbing up and down, then a flash of blue and… Helen! She throws her arms around my neck, kissing my cheek. "You did it…" She giggles as I spin her around, but I stop suddenly as my father's disapproving eyes meet mine.

I wait for him to say something, but he just stares past me. "There he is!" he exclaims. I turn around to see Ben approaching with his parents; my father shakes his hand, smiling. "We're all so proud of you…" My heart sinks. I'm his son… so why isn't he proud of me?

Someone thumps me hard on the back. I turn to see Raoul standing behind me with his family. "Papa, Maman, this is my friend, Cal Hockley."

Monsieur Shelmerdine steps forward. "Bonjour. Comment allez-vous?"

I stare at him, thinking back to what little French I remember. "Bien, merci."

My eyes fall to the two girls, even younger than Sarah, with dark hair and blue eyes like Raoul's, standing beside Madame Shelmerdine. They giggle as I smile at them – so does their mother. Raoul jerks his head toward them. "These are my twin sisters Michelle and Marie."

Sometime in the course of the conversation, Dave appears with a white-haired wrinkly-faced woman… must be his grandmother. I glance back at Ben, but he doesn't seem to notice; he's too busy basking in the praises of his parents… and mine. "It's such a shame Erik couldn't come," I hear Mr. Kaiche say.

Raoul and Dave exchange a blank look; Dave shrugs as Raoul blurts out, "Who the hell is Erik?"

Ben turns at the sound of his voice. "That's my brother," he answers. I can still see Ben's older brother in the back on my mind… tall, blond, older than us by about ten years. I sigh; I think the last time I saw Erik was at his graduation…

"Hockley!" a loud voice jerks me from my thoughts.

"Talus?" I wheel around incredulously, though I'd know that voice anywhere. Sure enough, my old friend from boarding school, Hank Talus, is standing before me, a strange dark-haired woman on his arm.

"This is my wife Catherine," he introduces her as I press her hand to my lips. "We were married two months ago." Talus laughs. "Looks like I'm not the only one…" He winks at Helen, who is still holding on to me. "My god, Hockley! How long has it been, five years?"

"Six," I correct him.

I feel a sudden tight squeeze on my leg and glance down as Abby's bright blue eyes meet mine. Snickers and giggles rise as her little arms wrap even tighter around my thigh; I instinctively stiffen in her embrace. "Good job, Uncle Cal!"

No sooner does she speak that someone yanks her away. "Abigail!" I flinch at the sound of Mary-Anne's voice. "How many times must I tell you, 'public displays of affection are not proper!'?" She give me her familiar fawning smile as she rises to her full height. "My apologies." I take a step back as she tries to smooth my hair. "That cap has made your hair look awful!" I glare at her; she opens her mouth to say something back, but think better of it and turns away.

"There's my grown-up nephew!" Aunt Rebecca exclaims, pulling me into her arms. By this time, my friends are doubled over with laughter. "Today, you become a man," she whispers, giving me a small peck on the cheek. I feel a hot blush rise as my friends roar. If I'm a man, why does she still treat me like a little boy?

Aunt Rebecca turns to face the group as we break apart. "I know it's a little short notice," she addresses them all, "but I'd like to invite all of you to a party in my nephew's honor."

I glance at Helen; her eyes darken. "I don't think my father would allow it," she says hesitantly.

Aunt Rebecca smiles. "I understand, Miss Anthony." Helen gapes at her for a moment until I shoot her a look to remind her that's the name my family knows her as. Aunt Rebecca looks up. "What about the rest of you?" Ben and Raoul cheer, the little Shelmerdine girls titter, Abby claps her hands excitedly, and Dave nods in agreement. Aunt Rebecca laughs. "Then I'll see you the day after tomorrow!"

The party is already alive by the time I walk into the ballroom. My eyes shift from the loaded banquet table to the decorations to the band. Wow, Aunt Rebecca's really outdone herself this time. I'm jerked from my thoughts as someone gives me a sharp pat on the back; I turn to meet Raoul's blue eyes. "About time you got here!" he laughs, handing me a drink.

"Yeah, we were starting to worry," Ben adds as he and Dave appear at my other side. "After all, it's not a party without this guy." He winks mischievously as he elbows me.

I turn as I feel a light touch on my arm, half-expecting it to be Aunt Rebecca. Instead, I'm face to face with a familiar pair of bright blue eyes. "H-Helen?" My heart skips a beat as I stare at her… her reddish-brown curls pinned atop her head, her diamond jewelry sparkling in the light, her blue dress the exact shade of her eyes.

I'm only vaguely aware of the band starting to play as I take her gloved hand in my own. "Helen, what are you doing here?" I blurt out before I can stop myself. "I thought you said your father wouldn't allow you to come."

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," she replies, smiling sweetly. I drop my eyes as panic sets in. What if her father finds out? Or worse, what if my father finds out? I feel her hand on my cheek; her eyes change. "Oh, Cal, please don't be angry! I couldn't stay away, not on your night…" Her lips brush against mine. "As much as our families hate each other, it'll only ever be a fraction of how much I love you…"

I gaze into her eyes, at a loss for words. Luckily, the grating sound of a knife on a glass prevents me from having to answer. All eyes turn to my father at the far side of the room. "I would like to propose a toast to the four fine gentlemen over there-" He jerks his head toward us. "Benntin Kaiche, David Walker, Raoul Shelmerdine, and of course, my son Caledon Hockley."

"Hear, hear!" I recognize the voice as Hank Talus's, shouting drunkenly above the loud clink of glasses knocking together. But one person does not raise a glass. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Sarah sitting by herself on a settee at the other side of the room, dressed in black, her dark hair spilling into her face.

Mary-Anne appears at her side. "I can't believe you'd wear black to a party!" I hear her scold as I approach, but she doesn't seem to notice me. She tsks disapprovingly as she lifts a strand of Sarah's loose hair. "Really, Sarah, you should let me fix your hair for you."

She tries to twist Sarah's hair into a high bun, similar to her own, but Sarah swats at Mary-Anne's hand, making her let go. My eyes dart from Sarah's demure black dress to Mary-Anne's low-cut frilly pink one, better suited to someone half her age. I can't help but laugh at the stark contrast.

Sarah's head jerks up abruptly, her eyes flashing cold fire. "Come to laugh at me again, have you, Cal?" She rises stiffly and disappears into the crowd before I have time to reply.

I turn to follow her and almost crash into Aunt Rebecca. Mary-Anne promptly sidles over to her. "Mother, I don't think you should g-" she starts to protest, but Aunt Rebecca silences her with a look.

"Congratulations, Cal," she whispers, kissing my cheek. She smiles, but I can still see the sadness reflected in her dark gray eyes. She takes my hand in both of her own. "Come with me. I have something for you."

Aunt Rebecca leads me up the stairs, ushering me into Uncle Frank's study. I can still hear the party raging on downstairs until she locks the door behind us. "It's such a shame your uncle isn't here to see this," she says with a sad smile. "He was so proud of you…" Without another word, she crosses the room; out of the corner of my eye, I see her pull a small red box from a drawer. "He meant to give you this…"

I lift the lid to find a gold pocket watch glinting inside the box. As I turn it over in my hand, I notice the engraving on the back:

To my son

With love,

Francis Dorman

1893

1893… This watch must've been made eleven years ago, before half my cousins died. I realize who this watch was intended for, and the inscription suddenly blurs. I bow my head as I feel my eyes sting and water, but Aunt Rebecca cups my face in her hands, gently titling it toward hers. "B-but…" I stammer weakly. "This is James's."

"Was James's," she corrects me, shaking her head sadly. "He died before…" Her voice falters as she turns away, pressing a hand to her eyes. She forces a smile, but her eyes are still wet as she looks back at me. "Frank was so proud when he learned you were going to Harvard… He loved you so much; you became like a son to him, to both of us, especially after…"

Her voice trails off, but I already know what she was going to say: after James and Robert died. I can only stare, at a complete loss for words, as she clips the watch fob to my vest. I can feel my throat tightening; I don't trust myself to speak, even if I could find the right words…. I'm afraid I'd burst out sobbing if I tried.

Aunt Rebecca's hand caresses my cheek, and I have to close my eyes against the tears threatening to fall. She sighs, finally breaking the dead silence that follows, and I force myself to meet her eyes. She smiles, taking my arm. "Well, shall we return to the party?"

Sarah is still sitting all alone at the far side of the room, her back to the crowd, as I return. Out of nowhere, Raoul appears, wine glass in hand. His free hand grabs hold of Sarah's, but she yanks it back before he can press it to his lips. This can't be good…

"Raoul!" I shout, jostling my way through the crowd. He turns at the sound of my voice, and I have to shoot him a warning look. "Not her."

"Oh, I see." A look of understanding spreads on his face; his voice drops, though it is still loud enough to be heard clear across the room. "Is she yours?"

"Hardly," Sarah interjects; the harshness of her voice startles me but Raoul just laughs. Her eyes darken and suddenly splash! She throws her wine in Raoul's face. I stare at her in disbelief; I've never seen her act that way before!

Raoul curses under his breath, wiping his face. "Why, you little-" He suddenly rounds on Sarah; I stand between them. Raoul tries to reach around me, but I put up an arm to keep him back before he has the chance to touch her. Go away, I try to warn him with my eyes. He glares at her for a few moments, then turns away.

I expect Sarah to throw her arms around me or kiss my cheek or at least say 'thank you', but as I look at her, I see the same unadulterated disdain in her eyes. "You think you can just step in and play the hero; then everything'll go back to the way it was, is that it?" I try to stammer a reply, but she cuts me off. "I'm perfectly capable of handling myself, Cal."

"Sarah…" I start after her as she disappears through the glass double doors. She tries to run, but I grab her arm before she can get far. Her black hair whips wildly behind her as she turns, her gray eyes burning with hate as they meet mine.

"Let go of me, Cal!" She tries to pull away, but I don't let her. She finally manages to wrench her arm from my grasp, and WHACK! She slaps me hard across the face. I can only stare at her incredulously for a few moments, holding my stinging cheek. I'm not sure whether to laugh at her or hit her back. I never knew little Sarah was that strong!

"Sarah, I know you're angry…" She doesn't budge as I stand behind her, doesn't turn to meet my eyes, just stares aimlessly out into the night. "God knows I would be too…" I have to swallow hard; this is going to be a lot harder than I thought. "But I promise Helen and I weren't laughing at you…" Her eyes blaze and I add quickly, "or your father…"

"You weren't?" She turns, and her eyes almost soften. "Then what was so damn funny?"

"Helen… she didn't know you were my cousin, so she thought…" I pretend to cough loudly to mask the chuckle that escapes me. "She thought you were my girlfriend, and she was jealous…"

Sarah just gapes silently at me. "She was jealous of me?" I nod, and she manages a shaky smile.

"Now do you forgive me, little Sarah?" She doesn't say a word, but the look in her eyes tells me she has. My hand rests atop hers… I don't know why; I half-expect her to pull away, but to my surprise she doesn't. "Well, shall we return to the party?" Her face falls, but she reluctantly allows me to lead her back inside.

No one notices us slip through the glass doors; they're all too busy applauding the band as their song ends. The band immediately strikes up a waltz, and I give Sarah's hand an encouraging squeeze. I have to force a smile as I meet her eyes. "May I?"

Sarah's hand trembles in my own; she rests her head against my chest as I pull her close. "It feels so wrong to be having this party…" Her voice is barely audible amid the music and conversation. "Not that you don't deserve it…" she adds quickly. My lapels bunch in her hands as she clings to me, and I feel her tears dampening the front of my shirt. "M-mother insists this is the way father would've wanted it, but I'm not so sure! It just seems so soon…"

I don't understand… Why is she pouring her heart out to me, of all people? I glance past her to Mary-Anne giggling as she whirls by on her husband's arm, to my father arguing with Mr. Kaiche and Monsieur Shelmerdine, to Aunt Rebecca chatting with Mrs. Walker, to Michelle and Marie gossiping, to Ben and Dave laughing… Suddenly it dawns on me: I'm the only one who won't demand she put on a happy façade!

Sarah's entire body shakes, wracked with silent sobs, as I hold her tighter. I wish there were something, anything, I could do to ease her suffering, but I can only stand there helplessly as she falls apart… until I remember the gold watch in my pocket. "Sarah?" She sniffles in reply as she looks up, twin black streaks running down her face where her make-up has bled. "This watch once belonged to your father…" She stares transfixed as I place the watch in her hand. Those sad dark gray eyes dart from the watch to me, and I have to look away before that look in her eyes breaks my heart.

"Father spoke a lot of this watch," Sarah whispers, vainly dashing away the tears still spilling down her cheeks. She drops the watch back into my hand, gently curling my fingers around it. "He wanted you to have it."

Several pairs of eyes turn to us as my hand entwines in her hair, but I pretend not to notice. "I…" I have to swallow the lump rising in my throat. "Thank you, little Sarah," I finally manage to choke out. I gaze up, blinking rapidly as my eyes begin to sting; I have to bite my lip hard to keep from crying with her. I want to hide my face in her hair and sob, but I know I can't… not here, not now. I have to be strong for Sarah, for the other people around. One of us has to keep up the façade. I smile bitterly; that's all high society is anyway, a façade.