Free Suspicion by Alexandra Moni Page B

up with all the super-smarties? You’ve always said how insanely hard the coursework was there,” I remind him.
    “You could specialize in the subject you’re best at. Maybe English literature? You love reading.”
    “Oh, I’ve heard about Oxford’s English program. Apparently you have to give three-hour presentations on your reading material in Latin.” I start to feel a case of the sweats coming on. But as I look at Keith, I know I have to find a way to appease him. It’s bad enough that I’m leaving them. “What if I take a summer course? If I survive it and pass, then I’ll apply for a full term next year.”
    Keith hesitates for a moment, but then he gives a slight nod. Carole shakes her head angrily at Keith and rises to her feet.
    “A summer course at Oxford in no way changes the fact that you’re going to be living on your own at seventeen, with immense pressure on your shoulders and the very real possibility of a threat to your life. I can’t give you my blessing on this.”
    “I’ll hardly be alone,” I try to reassure her. “I’ll be living with a staff of a dozen people, including the butler who practically raised my dad, plus full-time security.”
    “Butler?” Zoey echoes, her mouth agape.
    Carole wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.
    “I know I can’t talk you out of your inheritance. What young girl wouldn’t want to be a duchess and live in her own palace? But I’ve always had a bad feeling about that place—and you might think the letter is just a joke, but it only strengthened my suspicions. So no, I can’t be happy about this.”
    “I don’t expect you to be happy about it now. But I hope one day you will be, and that you’ll see I did the right thing,” I say. “And I promise, if I get there and I sense anything wrong, I’ll come home right away. Please, just … try not to worry. Everything is going to be okay.”
    Zoey reaches for my hand across the table.
    “You have my support,” she says, forcing a smile. “My sister, the duchess. ”

V
    I toss and turn in bed that night, Lucia’s face coming to mind every time I drift off to sleep. When I close my eyes, I see her as she was at age twelve—but her beautiful face is marred with blood. The dark red spills from her eyelids onto her cheeks; it streaks her hair crimson. I’m desperate to get away from the terrifying sight, and yet I am frozen in place.
    “How could you let this happen to me?” she sobs, shaking her pale arms toward me. “How could you let me turn into this?”
    My eyes snap open just before she gets close enough to touch me. I’m back home in New York—and she is gone. But the weight of my guilt is heavier than before. I should have been there for her, and instead … I am taking her place.
    “Forgive me, Lucia,” I whisper into the darkness.
    I lie there for hours, not sleeping or moving—but remembering the two little girls who used to play together, sharing secrets and sleepovers in the Rockford boathouse. I know that when morning comes, I’ll be forced to grow up fast. And sure enough, as daylight breaks, the two little girls from my memory vanish with the moon.

    My new reality begins with Harry Morgan arriving at the apartment to escort Zoey and me to school. He warned me at the end of our meeting yesterday that the news of my succession to the dukedom would be public knowledge by morning, what with the UK being five hours ahead.
    “Just in case the press should set up camp outside your school, I’d really prefer that I chauffeur you and Miss Marino,” he said.
    I relented, but only because the word “press” freaked me out. Now, as I make my way into the living room and find Carole and Keith staring Harry down as if he’s from an opposing faction, I wonder if maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.
    “Morning!” I call out in a fake-cheery voice. “I see you guys have already met.”
    The three of them nod stiffly. Only Harry offers a smile.
    “Are you ready, Your