Molly carefully concealed her jealousy as she looked at her sister’s dusty pink jeans and matching crocheted sweater. The sweater had a deep V-neck with a scalloped edge that curved over Phoebe’s breasts. Molly wanted to clutch Dostoyevski to her own chest to hide its lack of shape. It wasn’t fair. Phoebe was old, and she didn’t need to be pretty any longer. She didn’t need all that blond hair and those slanty eyes. Why couldn’t Molly have been the pretty one instead of a thin, ugly stick with plain brown hair?

“I was reading.”

“I see.”

“I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for conversation, Phoebe.”

“This won’t take long. School starts soon and there are a few things we need to discuss.”

Phoebe’s poodle scampered through the door and bounded over to Molly, who drew back and glared at her sister. “Where did that dog come from?”

“Since it looks as if I’m going to have to settle here for a while, I had Viktor put her on a plane.”

Molly moved her feet away from the poodle as it began to attack her fuzzy yellow slippers. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t let it in my room. I’m highly allergic.”

Phoebe sat on the edge of Molly’s bed and reached down to snap her fingers for Pooh, who came to her side. “Poodles don’t shed. They’re good dogs for people with allergies.”

“I don’t care to have animals in my bedroom.”

“Are you this unpleasant all the time, or is it just me?”

Molly’s lips set in a mulish line. “I’m tired, and I want to go to sleep.”

“It’s only nine o’clock.”

“I’ve been ill.”

Phoebe watched as Molly bent her head over her book, deliberately shutting her out. Once again she experienced the familiar combination of frustration and sympathy that took hold of her whenever she tried to talk to the child. She hadn’t even been back in Chicago for a week before Molly had been sent home from camp to recuperate from the flu. If anything, their relationship had grown worse in the past two days instead of improving.

She plucked at the stitching on the bedspread. “This house has to be closed soon so it can be put up for sale. Unfortunately, it seems as if I’m going to be stuck here for the next few months, so I’ve decided to move into a condo Bert owned that’s not too far from the Stars Complex. The lawyers say I can stay there until the first of the year.” She was also being provided with a living allowance to take care of her expenses, which was a good thing because her bank account had dipped alarmingly low.

“Since I’ll be back at Crayton, I don’t see how your living arrangements concern me.”