“Why not sooner, then?” She rolls her eyes on a sarcastic smile.

“I wasn’t of legal age to make that decision!”

“Is that why your mam sent a letter to my grandparents asking to see the will? So you can connect not only with your heritage, but also a nice Gucci bag?”

It’s a surprise my jaw doesn’t hit the floor. I want to kill Mom. Or at least I think I should. I don’t know what I’m entitled to or not. I don’t care. I’m not gonna use his stupid money. This is not what this trip is about.

“Listen, I—” I start, but she cuts me off.

She leans forward, clutching my hand in hers across the table. Kathleen squeezes painfully, crushing my bones, her plastic smile making an unexpected comeback. Now I know that when she hugged me at the door, she really did mean to hurt me. She looks like the kind of girl who’d drown her old dog to get her parents to buy her a puppy.

“No, you listen to me. You’re not going to see a penny from Da’s money. He left everything to me, and for good reason. I’m his legitimate child. You and the other poor sod who kicked the bucket, on the other hand, are nothing but mere unfortunate accidents. Also, you can shag Mal all you want for however long you’re here, but it is me who will marry him. So just remember that when you’re writhing underneath him and letting him use you. He’ll fuck you, because he can, but it’s me who will warm his bed forever. And that’s you in a nutshell, Aurora. A cheap version of me. In Da’s life. In Mal’s.”

Her grip tightens even more around my hand. I pull away, but she is strong, and I’m too stunned to move. Her lips twitch and widen. “And please don’t embarrass yourself by trying to pull your mother’s trick and get knocked up. Surely you know he won’t follow you to America, and if you expect to dump your spawn at my door, you’re in for a terrible disappointment.”

I stare at her, wondering how I could be genetically linked to this cardigan-wearing, fire-spitting green-eyed monster.

“You’ve got it all wrong.” I try to yank my hand away again, but she tugs harder, digging her manicured, neutrally colored nails in.

Usually, I’m a take-no-crap kind of person, but right now, the shock of being in a foreign land and hearing this from my only living relative besides Mom freezes me to the spot. Turns out, I’m not a fight, nor a flight type of person. I’m a let’s-sit-here-like-a-log-and-see-how-it-pans-out chick.

“Stay away from Mal. He is mine. The money’s mine. Everything you see here, everyone you meet, belongs to me. Leave.”

“You think I’m after the money? Your crush?” I spit the last word.

Moments ago, I’d have died before laying a finger on Mal. But right now? I would likely hump him on her dining table, preferably as she eats her dinner in front of us.