Georgia and I shared Dad’s straight black hair and olive skin. She got his brown eyes. Mom’s eyes were blue. I had no idea where my eyes came from. I just always liked the fact that there was something of mine that was none of theirs.

“I just finished finding it all half an hour before I left for lunch,” I went on. “And at this point, as petty as it is, considering I’ve been sharing my concerns about David for years, I would very much like to say ‘I told you so.’”

“Please be careful, Liv. I’m suddenly not in a good mood.”

I wisely decided, considering her moods occasionally could be like our father’s, to be careful. Thus I looked away, seeing a waitress coming our way.

Georgia already had a martini.

I ordered sparkling water with lemon and lime and a glass of Prosecco.

“I would suggest that as soon as possible Gill and or Tommy are dispatched to bring him back. And it would be helpful when they did that they bring back as much of our money as they can,” I stated when the waitress moved away.

My sister’s still angry eyes narrowed on me.

“Tommy?”

I tipped my head to the side. “He does need more responsibility, doesn’t he? Seeing as he has a growing family he needs to take care of. It’s time he stopped stagnating and moved up the ranks.”

Anger and sisterly tenderness warred in her features as she started, “Liv—”

I turned my attention to my menu. “Let’s order. I have a good deal to do and I have plans this evening.”

She said nothing. The waitress came back with my drinks. We ordered.

Then she said something.

“It’s been years. And now you’re over Tommy that easily?” she asked, watching me closely.

“I’ll never be over that,” I answered then went on foolishly, bringing up a topic I knew all too well I shouldn’t bring up, “A heinous lesson that was learned when there was no need to teach it. But still, although never to be over the lesson that was Tommy, I’m over Tommy.”

“You guys stole two million dollars,” she said carefully.

Yes. I was foolish to bring it up.

I did not want to go over old ground.

But I was so used to doing it when the frequent occasion occurred that my sister tried to explain gently what had been demonstrated not-so-gently, out of habit, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “How can one steal one’s own money?”

“Nothing is anyone’s, babe, you know that. If it’s Shade, it’s all the Shades’.”

I nodded. “Oh yes, I do remember that being mentioned while boiling oil was being poured on my back.”

She flinched.

I kept talking.