Free The Masterpiecers (Masterful #1) by Olivia Wildenstein Page B

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    I notice pity staining the onlookers’ faces. And then I notice Nathan standing beside Dominic, beaming like a stop sign.
    He got it before me.
     

Chapter Eleven
    Aster
     
    Every inch of skin on my body burns as though it were being doused in acid.
    “Nathan. Your answer?” Dominic asks.
    The camera moves off Ivy’s face onto Nathan’s. I don’t care about his face. I care about Ivy’s. Only Ivy.
    “Looks like someone doesn’t win after all,” the long-necked guard says. Ever since I promised her the money, she’s been bursting into the dayroom to catch segments of the show.
    “It’s not over,” I tell her. It can’t be. Ivy’s the best.
    The camera slides back to her. She’s bleached all emotion from her face, but I know she’s unwell. I can feel it through our twin connection.
    “ The Love Letter by Jean Honoré Fragonard,” Nathan says, his face as shiny as a glazed donut.
    Dominic shakes his head as though he has a fly buzzing around it. “No, Nathan. That’s not it.”
    It takes a few seconds for the smile to tumble off Nathan’s lips, as though each cell of skin is repositioning itself.
    “I’m sorry.” Dominic pats him on the back. “Ivy? What do you have for us?”
    She doesn’t move. I spring to the edge of the couch. “Come on, Ivy,” I whisper.
    Giraffe-neck smirks.
    “What’s the answer to your riddle, sweetheart?” Dominic asks.
    She moves forward, carving a path toward the master of ceremony. Once next to him, she says, “ White Flag by Jasper Johns.” Her voice is steady.
    Dominic hisses, hiking up his lips and baring his teeth like a hyena.
    My hope shatters like the ornament Mom threw at my head during our last Christmas together.
    “Is that your final answer?” he asks.
    Her gaze coasts over the crowd, over me, but the rest of her face remains impassive. “Yes.”
    Dominic begins to clap, and then everyone claps, and I realize her answer was correct and Dominic was just being an asshole. My emotions are all over the place, like the shimmery painted glass fragments that embedded themselves in my skin. Nathan swipes his eyes. He’s crying. I want to care, but I don’t.
    The TV switches off.
    “What did you do that for?” I exclaim, twisting toward the guard. “It’s not done!”
    “For today, it is. Recreation time.”
    “I don’t want to go to the yard.”
    The guard smirks. “And I don’t want to babysit you, but I do it anyway.”
    “I’m paying you.”
    “I let you skip lunch already. Now get your ass to the yard before I do away with your little privilege.”
    I grind my teeth together and get up. The enclosed prison ground is full of people. Some are just hanging in groups on the grassy part; others are doing pull-ups on metal bars like caged monkeys. Half of them are crazy. I wonder if they arrived like this or if prison turned them into wackos.
    The temperature is sweltering. For a second, I tilt my face up to absorb the sun, but then it’s too hot. I look for shade, but there is none. Shade would be too much of a luxury. I walk over to a deserted strip of dusty pale sand and drop down. First I sit, but it’s awkward just sitting there, being stared at by the entire prison population, so I roll back and close my eyes, and replay today’s show.
    When I don’t feel the sting of the sun, I snap my lids up. Sure enough, Gill and Cheyenne are standing above me.
    “The princess finally joins us,” Cheyenne says.
    “Tired of watching your little game show?” Gill asks.
    “It’s done.”
    “ Aww …did your pwetty little sister lose already?” Cheyenne asks.
    My jaw clenches. “No. Can you move? You’re blocking the sun.” I’d rather get sunburned, charred even, than endure another minute of scrutiny.
    “I’m blockin’ her sun,” Cheyenne repeats, distorting her voice. I don’t know if she thinks she sounds like me, but she doesn’t. She just sounds like an idiot. “Get any darker and you’ll turn black. That’s