She’d gone over the moment so many times in her head, but now that it was happening in real time, she could no longer remember the speech she’d prepared. While an apology seemed an appropriate place to start, there was a part of her that doubted it would do any good. It seemed they’d moved way beyond that.
“We’ll talk in the living room.” Her mother’s voice was stern and commanding, bordering on harsh. To Javen, she said, “Now that you’ve seen your sister, it’s time for you to go back to your room.”
“But Mom—” he started to protest, but Aster shook her head in warning. Last thing she needed was for him to agitate her mother any more than she already was.
She watched as Javen pounded up the stairs with Nanny Mitra close on his heels; then she followed her mother’s rigid, Chanel-clad back to the sofa, where she was ordered to sit.
Aster sank onto the French silk cushions, which weren’t nearly as welcoming as they appeared. But then with the abundance of stiff-backed chairs and priceless antiques Aster had been forbidden to touch as a kid, the house had been designed more with an eye to impress than to comfort.
Not surprisingly, her mother was the first to break the silence. “I’m sure you can imagine how distressing it was for us to learn that you were out on bail and you’d failed to contact us.”
Aster stared down at her hands. She’d expected this, and yet she still hadn’t come up with a satisfying answer that would explain her actions without hurting their feelings. “I needed some space,” she finally said. “And I guess I figured you did as well.”
Her mother tilted her chin in a way that made her appear even more poised and regal than usual. And with her dad standing behind her, his hand resting on the back of her chair, they looked so imperious, so impenetrable, Aster wondered why she’d ever thought it a good idea to visit them.
She gripped the edge of the cushion and started to rise. This was a mistake. She needed to leave before it could get any worse.
“We saw the interview.”
Aster was crouched in a half-standing, half-sitting position when her father’s voice jerked her away from her thoughts.
“You held your own with that reporter. I was proud of the way you handled her.” Aster slowly lowered herself back onto the cushion and prepared to settle in, if only for a little longer.
Her father was proud of her.
She’d made her father proud.
She was close to weeping from the sheer joy of hearing his words, but forced herself to merely nod in reply.
“We know you didn’t do it, Aster.”
The last statement came from her mother, and Aster wondered for a moment if maybe she’d somehow imagined it. It was the very last thing she’d ever expected to hear. She’d been sure her mom had assumed she was guilty of every imaginable atrocity from the moment she’d caught Aster sneaking into the house dressed in boys’ clothes.
“Though that doesn’t excuse the actions you took that landed you in your current predicament. Nor does it excuse the hell you’ve put this family through.”
And . . . she’s back! Aster slumped low on the sofa. She’d expected exactly this and much worse. Hell, she deserved it. She’d hurt them in every conceivable way, and there was no making up for it. All she could do now was try to shield them from the freak show her life had become. Unfortunately, with the upcoming trial, the public scrutiny was about to amp up in ways they could never foresee.
She ran her fingers over the custom upholstery, aware that every touch, every look, was the last until she could put the whole mess behind her. And if things didn’t go her way, then it was entirely possible she’d never return.
Her father patted her mother’s shoulder in a vain attempt to calm her, but Aster’s mother, as usual, refused to be silenced.
“Your brother’s studies are slipping, we’re plagued by paparazzi who continuously manage to sneak inside our community, not to mention our company stocks are plummeting.”
“They’re not plummeting,” Aster’s father corrected, but her mother shook her head and held firm.
“Our business interests are being adversely affected.”
Aster swallowed hard, unsure exactly what was expected of her. There was no use defending herself when they’d already confirmed they believed she was innocent. As for all their other grievances, there was no denying she was 100 percent guilty of causing them.
All except for Javen’s poor grades, which probably had a lot more to do with his new boyfriend than her. Though it wasn’t like she’d ever reveal that. It was his secret to share.
Aster threw up her hands. “I’m not really sure what you want me to do here.”
“Move home,” her father said. “So we can look after you.”
The pleading look on his face nearly saw her agreeing. But a moment later, Aster shook her head. “You think it’s bad now with the paparazzi? It’ll be ten times worse if I move back. And while I can never make up for all the trouble and heartache I’ve caused, I can do my best to protect you from at least some of the circus that surrounds me. And the only way to do that is to distance myself entirely.”
“But I’ve hired a team of lawyers!” her father cut in. Edging around her mother’s chair, he came to stand before her. “They want to talk to you about discussing a plea bargain.”