Page 18 of Made in Malice
“I almost forgot this.” Astrid stands up and comes around my side of the table. I freeze for a moment, unsure if she’s going to try to hug me or what, but a glint of something in her hand catches my eye. She leans forward, her hand extended, but seems to think better of her actions at the last second and decides to present me with what’s in her hand by placing it in my palm.
“What is this?” I question softly, because the shimmery white metal is absolutely beautiful, and I’m a little in awe to be holding it. The thin chain is long, with a ball clasp allowing you to change the length of the necklace, but the pendant is the real star. It’s a square yellow stone, surrounded by clear stones that might be diamonds, but I have no way of knowing.
“It was your mother’s, and I would like you to have it.”
The white metal is deceptively heavy for the delicate appearance. I curl my fingers around the beautiful pendant and necklace. The only piece of jewelry I saw my mother wear was a thin gold band that matched my father’s wedding ring, and those were sold at some point or another to pay bills.
If this truly was hers, then why did she leave it behind? Or was it just a reminder of her old life that she no longer wanted?
“I’m sure she would love for you to wear it. I know nothing would please me more, Nova,” Astrid tells me.
I’m torn. I want it, mostly because I’ve never had anything quite so lovely, but shouldn’t it be more important that it was my mom’s?
“I knew she was never coming back when I found it in her room.” Astrid sounds utterly devastated, which makes me feel horrible, so I decide to slip the heavy necklace and pendant over my head. When I look up, my grandmother’s eyes are glassy with unshed tears, but she’s smiling.
“Thank you, Nova.” Her words seem heartfelt, but her tone shifts immediately when she adds, “You should probably be going. We don’t want you to be late.” She leaves the room before I can reply.
I tell myself it’s because she got emotional, but something about the exchange feels off. When I stand, the weight of the pendant bounces between my breasts. The shiny white metal and gems look out of place over my shirt, so I tuck the chain under my collar and adjust the necklace so it’s barely visible around my neck.
“Try not to cause too much trouble,” Alden tells me under his breath after opening the main entrance for me at school. I don’t bother responding, especially after he accused me of antagonizing Morningstar yesterday when all I did was respond to his nastiness.
I find the administration office easily. It’s almost directly across from the library on the main floor, just as Astrid said it would be. The young woman behind the reception desk greets me with a smile that quickly falls as her eyes roam over me. “May I help you?”
Dang, maybe I should have worn the stuff Tabby left. She’s looking at me the same way I probably looked at the homeless guy who hung out at the bus stop all the time—part dread, part abhorrence.
“I have an appointment with” —I look down at the paper to make sure I get the name correct— “Bella Quade.”
Her eyes narrow as she turns to the side to pick up a desk phone. She keeps her voice soft, but I can still hear her one-sided conversation. “Mrs. Quade, there’s someone here who says they have an appointment with you?” She sounds doubtful. “Sure, I can show her back.” The girl peeks over at me again with that same suspicion, but there’s curiosity now too.
After hanging up, she stands and straightens her shirt over her flat stomach before pushing her chair in. “Right this way.” She doesn’t wait for me to even round the desk before taking off down a long hallway in her flirty flare skirt and heels.
There’s a tiny piece of me that wants to pull the pendant out of my shirt to see if it would change her attitude, but it’s a fleeting thought. That’s not who I am or who I want to be, though it would be nice to fit in for once.
“Are you applying for a scholarship?” she asks without even looking backwards.
“No,” I respond without divulging anything else. I’m sure she’ll know everything she wants to about me in no time flat, whether it’s true or not.
She makes a humming sound, then finally stops at a wooden door that looks exactly like all the others evenly spaced down the hall, but this one has a gold plaque that reads, “Isabella Quade, Director of Admissions,” in a bold script.
“Here you go, she’s expecting you.” She does a game show pivot and brushes past me, just avoiding bumping my shoulder in the process.
I watch her walk away, thinking about telling her to shove her attitude up her butt, but I keep my mouth shut, knock politely on the door, and wait for a reply.
“It’s open,” comes a feminine voice.
With one deep, calming breath, I turn the knob and enter the room, remembering Alden told me none of the families get along, but the Morningstars don’t hide it. I have no idea how this person is going to react to me, considering she will know exactly who I am.
“Nova,” she greets, rising and extending her hand for me to shake. I grip her fingers and release quickly before she offers me a seat in front of her desk with a wave of her hand.
After taking her own seat, her eyes roam over my face while a soft smile plays on her mouth. “Wow, you have your father’s eyes, that’s for sure.”
“You knew him?” The question comes without thought.
“Not well, but I did.” Her features shift a little, causing her forehead to wrinkle. “What happened was tragic.”
“Yeah,” I agree without much feeling behind the sentiment. It’s not the first time someone has used those exact words to describe the accident that killed my parents and almost me, but tragic doesn’t feel like a big enough word, nothing does.
“But you’re here at Cadieux, and I know Astrid is just tickled.” Is that sarcasm in her tone?