Beatrice was twelve, dark-haired, delicate, and graceful. Everything she did, she did perfectly. She’d won the gold medal in her first gymnastics competition. As soon as she’d begun dance classes, her instructor had asked her to be one of the background dancers in a television show. In the family, it was understood that she was perfect. It had been that way since the day she’d arrived.
Suddenly self-conscious, Evie slumped. She was five-foot-six and Beatrice was barely five feet tall. She felt too tall around her. And too clumsy. And too freckly and too red-haired. “Happy? I was just thinking about something.”
“Must’ve been funny.” Beatrice sat on the stone bench beside the path and held out a toasted whole-wheat bagel slathered with cream cheese. “I don’t want this. Do you?”
Evie was suddenly ravenous. She’d been up since five that morning and hadn’t eaten since the muffin and banana she’d grabbed on her way out the door. “Yes! Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Beatrice sniffed. “It’s my second. Sella’s trying to fatten me up.”
“Happy to help,” said Evie as she took a big bite and sat down beside her. “Thanks. I’m really hungry.”
“She keeps pushing food at me. I’m just naturally thin.” Beatrice crossed her legs and bounced a foot as she flicked a piece of dust off her pink cotton sundress. “Where were you all morning, anyway?”
“Out riding. Why?”
“You missed my synchronized swimming recital. Mommy’s mad.”
Evie stopped chewing and wiped her mouth on her sweaty arm. “Was that today? I’m sorry, Beebee!”
Beatrice rose from the bench and stretched like a Siamese cat. “No big deal.”
“Were you fabulous?”
“Everybody said so.”
“I wish I’d seen you swim.”
“I thought you missed it on purpose.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you’re afraid of water.”
Evie swallowed. It was true. The mere smell of chlorine caused a tightness in her chest and the need to sit down. “No. I really would’ve loved to see it.”
Beatrice twirled, pointed a toe, and skipped up the walk to the house. “Next time.”
“Sorry!” Evie called to her departing back. Nobody had actually told Evie about Beatrice’s swimming recital. She knew about it, but since she’d never been officially invited, she’d never promised to go. Which allowed her to sneak away to the Caledon Horse Race. Now it looked like she was in trouble again.
“Hey, Evie!”
Evie’s thoughts were broken by another sibling.
Her seven-year-old half-brother, Jordan, appeared. He had light brown floppy hair and a sweet face.
“Hey Jordie. What’s up?”
“Where’ve you been all day?”
“Fooling around with Kazzam.”
“Who’s Kazzam?”
Oops. “I mean No Justice.”
“Why’d you call him Kazzam?”
“It’s the name of the horse that won the Caledon Horse Race. I heard it on the radio today and I liked it.”
“It’s a cool name.”
“Yeah, I think so, too.” That was close, thought Evie.
Jordie looked down at his runners. “Um, Mom wants to talk to you. She’s kinda mad about something.”
“Beebee’s recital?”
“Yeah.”
“Did she send you to find me?”
“Yeah.” Jordie dug the toe of his sneaker into the grass. “Um, I can say I can’t find you, if you want.”
“Nah. I’m going up to the house now anyway.”
“I’ll go with you.”
Evie put her hand on her little brother’s shoulder as they walked. She was touched by how he stood up for her. She stood up for him, too. And sometimes it backfired.
The previous summer, their father was chastising him in the back garden for bringing a tame rat home from day camp. Jordie had traded his lunch for it. Evie knew how much he loved it, and she approached them to offer to help look after it. Their father had glared at her, then grabbed the frightened rat by the tail and hurled it on the rocks below the garden. It broke its back. The gardener climbed down and smashed it with his shovel to put it out of its misery.
Through her stunned tears, she’d asked Grayson why he’d done that. He’d answered, “The fact that you have to ask makes it worse.” Again, point made. Nobody should question his orders. Again, confusion and fear.
Evie and Jordie entered the house through the kitchen door. She took off her filthy riding boots and stood them neatly on the boot rack. “Can you talk to Paulina while I have a quick shower? She hates it when I’m dirty.”
“Sure.” Jordie took off running.
Evie climbed the back stairs two at a time. She passed the open door of Beatrice’s pink-and-white, lace-and-satin bedroom. It had an ensuite bathroom and a big bay window with a cushioned window seat. Her childhood dollhouse was decorated exactly the same, and sat in the middle of the sitting-room area beside the television.
Jordie’s room was just as big. It was all in shades of blue and very much a boy’s room. Trains, boats, cars, trucks, and all sorts of other toys were tidied every day by Sella. Sella had lived with the family for longer than Evie could remember and had become a second mother to her when she was three, after her own mother had gone.
Up Evie climbed to her room, tucked under the roof. She loved it. There was barely space for a single bed and a dresser, but it was very private. The small window looked over toward the stables and she could see all the paddocks. Paulina let her decorate it any way she wanted. Paulina never went up there, so it really didn’t matter if it suited her lavish tastes.
On Evie’s walls were pictures of horses and nothing else. Posters of jumping horses, bucking horses, mares and foals. She loved them all, but her favourite was the poster of jockey Imogene Watson winning the Queen’s Plate on Firestone Stable’s Mike Fox. Evie could just imagine the thrill of that day.
Evie had chosen a green-and-red plaid bed cover and had collected cushions with horses embroidered on them over the years. Whenever she saw one, she bought it with her savings unless it was too expensive. Sometimes theme cushions were totally overpriced.
Evie pulled off her grimy clothes and jumped into the small shower in the hall. She soaped herself, washed her hair and rinsed it, grabbed a towel and was dressed in clean navy shorts and a white T-shirt within five minutes.
She raced down the stairs and walked into the huge living room, decorated in shades of pink and ivory by some famous guy Paulina had flown up from Miami. She was a few minutes late, but at least Paulina wouldn’t spend ten minutes yelling at her about her lack of personal hygiene.
Her stepmother, back from her riding lesson, lounged on the overstuffed white couch with satin cushions, her stockinged feet propped up on an ottoman. Tick and Tock, her tiny brown chihuahuas, were tucked beside her with their bug-eyed heads comfortably resting on her stomach. She’d removed her boots but hadn’t changed out of her riding clothes. She never got dirty. People made sure that the horses and tack were spotless.
True to his word, Jordie sat on an armchair right beside her. He caught Evie’s eye and tried to wink. He’d been practising,