Chapter 3

The butler standing to the side felt a sharp, rhythmic twitch in his temple.

Five point six million dollars. Sixty dollars. How had Julian managed to say that with a straight face?

Elise relaxed when she heard the price.

She was careful with money, but buying something useless simply because it was cheap made no sense to her. Some things deserved their price. Others weren't worth buying at all, however little they cost.

For sixty dollars, this workmanship was an extraordinary bargain.

She tilted the bracelet toward the light. The stones caught it, a little river of stars shining between her hands. She had always had a weakness for pretty things like this.

Besides, the price of a gift from her brother didn't matter. Even the cheapest present meant he had thought of her.

She leaned closer.

“The diamonds look real.”

Because they are, the butler supplied silently, keeping his head down.

People at the auction had fought bitterly for that bracelet. Julian had ended the contest by raising the previous bid by a full one point four million dollars. No one had dared go higher.

Elise smiled, pleased with her present.

“Thank you, Julian.”

Seeing that smile, he finally relaxed.

“You're welcome. If you like it, I'll buy you another one next time. They're cheap enough.”

He sounded so gentle, so perfectly willing to go straight out and find another bracelet if she asked, that the butler struggled to keep his face still.

Good heavens! 5.6 million! Does he really intend to keep this up? What if Miss Elise mistakes it for some sixty-dollar trinket and just gives it away to someone else?

He stole a glance at Julian. There wasn't the slightest sign of regret over the money. He simply looked delighted that Elise liked his gift.

Well, never mind. To the Whitmores, five point six million was hardly more than loose change.

But the butler was beginning to understand that things in this house were about to change.

Julian's gaze dropped to Elise's dress.

It was cotton and linen, the color faded with years of wear. He frowned. How had he never noticed how plainly she dressed?

When he left her room and headed toward his study, the warmth went out of his face again.

The butler followed in silence. He had accepted it now. Apparently, that kindly version of Julian existed only for Elise. The rest of them weren't entitled to it.

“How much spending money does Ellie receive each month?”

The butler straightened at once.

“Fourteen thousand dollars, sir.”

“Why so little?”

The cold edge in the question made him shiver. He hadn't set the amount.

When Elise first came home, her allowance had been fixed at the same level as Vivian's. On paper, each received fourteen thousand a month. In practice, Vivian had long since left that figure behind. If she ran short, she asked her brothers for more. If she wanted something expensive, she coaxed one of them into buying it. Her actual spending was many times her allowance.

Elise would never ask them for money. She hardly spent anything either. According to the staff, she put it all away.

The butler couldn't think how to explain that tactfully.

Julian considered it in silence. How many things like this had he overlooked?

“Have the stylist buy clothes in her size. Things that suit her. All four seasons. I'll leave the quantity to you.”

“Yes, sir.” Relief made the answer come quickly.

“And remove the tags. If Ellie asks, they're clearance knockoffs. Fifteen or thirty dollars apiece.”

The butler had no answer to that.

Designer clothes costing thousands, passed off as cheap imitations. Their designers would weep.

He still had the other box to deal with.

“What would you like me to do with the Heart of the Ocean?” he asked cautiously.

Vivian had wanted it for so long. Siblings argued; they got over it. After seventeen years together, surely Julian would end up giving her the jewel as a peace offering.

Julian thought for a moment.

“Get Ellie a safe of her own. Put it in there.”

The butler wondered whether he had misheard. Vivian wasn't getting it at all? Even the Heart of the Ocean was going to Elise? And a private safe as well?

Until now, those privileges had all belonged to Vivian.

Julian continued toward his study.

Vivian had somewhere of her own to keep her valuable jewelry. Elise didn't.

One day he would fill that safe for her. Everything inside would be worth a hundred times, a thousand times what Vivian had.

Back at her desk, Elise was working through more practice questions when her phone lit up beside her.

Mom.

“Ellie, how are you doing over there? Is anyone giving you trouble? Are you eating properly?”

Martha Bennett was her adoptive mother. After Elise got lost as a little girl, a kind stranger had found her and taken her to a children's home. Martha had been the one to bring her home from there.

The Bennetts couldn't have children. They had raised Elise as their own.

She went to the window and looked out into the darkness.

“I'm fine, Mom. You don't need to worry.” Her voice softened. “Have you finished for the day?”

Her parents sold vegetables for a living. At four in the morning they went to the wholesale market to buy stock, opened their stall at six, and worked until they could get home at nine that night.

When the Whitmores found Elise, the Bennetts had been heartbroken. For a long time, they couldn't bear the thought of her leaving. In the end, they had hardened their hearts and insisted she go back to her birth family. They had refused the money the Whitmores offered them too.

They were getting older now. Small illnesses and aches had begun to trouble them.

Elise hated seeing them work so hard, but they wouldn't accept money from her openly. She saved her allowance in her bank account and quietly transferred a little to Martha now and then. Her mother had grown forgetful. Each time, she assumed she had misremembered her balance, and Elise's secret remained safe.

“Is your cough any better?”

At the other end of the call, her father leaned toward Martha, pushing his phone in front of her.

Whenever they missed their daughter, they searched for her name online. What they found was almost never kind. Strangers seemed to have decided they disliked her.

Now someone had posted a screenshot of a poll from her school's discussion board on X. Underneath it, people were calling her trash and sneering at her for being poor.

Martha read a few lines, grew angrier with each one, and pushed her husband's phone aside.

“Are you sure you're all right?” she asked quietly.

Elise smiled.

“Really, Mom. Everyone's been very good to me.”

Some people certainly didn't like her. Their opinions couldn't hurt her, and there was no reason to pass them on to her parents and make them worry.

Martha thought of those comments and felt tears gathering. She took a breath.

“My Ellie's such a good girl. Of course everyone likes you.” She steadied her voice. “Wear something warm when you go out. Fall's nearly here.”

“I will.”

They were about to say goodbye when Martha spoke again.

“Ellie, do you know how to make an account on X?”

“An account?”

“All the young people use it. We thought we'd have a look too.”

Elise understood. Older people liked trying new things as well. She patiently talked them through setting up an account and writing a post. They reminded her to take care of herself several more times before finally hanging up.

As soon as the call ended, Martha turned on her husband.

“Why were you shoving that at me while I was still talking to her?”

“I was angry!” He looked helpless. “We've got the account now. What do we do?”

She took the phone from him.

One reply was short and to the point.

Elise Whitmore has single-handedly lowered the standard of high society.

More than three hundred people had liked it. It sat among the most popular replies.

“What a load of crap. What's Ellie ever done to them? How can they be so vicious? Aren't they afraid it'll come back on them one day?”

But anger made Martha clumsy with words. She held the phone, trying to compose a reply, and couldn't type a thing.

Beside her, her husband put on his glasses and picked up an old book. Its cover was worn, its pages awkward to turn. It was a civics reader, full of the country's founding documents and lessons in being a good citizen.

Martha looked at it. Her eyes brightened.

Over the next stretch of the evening, the people mocking Elise found their replies filling up with earnest lessons from that battered book.

All men are created equal.

There were passages about treating others with dignity, living peaceably with one's neighbors, and remembering basic kindness. Anyone joining in the pile-on received a little course in good citizenship.

Civility. Harmony. Kindness.

The recipients were baffled.

Who was this? The account was new and didn't even have a profile picture. They wanted to argue, but how were they supposed to announce in public that they were against equality or treating people decently?

One of them finally opened the profile. No picture, no original posts. Just a date of birth sitting in the account information: June 1, 1973.

Elise Whitmore had fans now?

Middle-aged fans?