Free The Women in the Walls by Amy Lukavics Page B

across the table. “Something tells me that your aunt would have been extremely proud to see you defuse a nonsensical situation such as that.”
    Margaret lets out a sharp little sigh from beside me. If Gregory hears his wife’s words, he doesn’t show it, instead carrying on with someone sitting to Margaret’s left about the current state governor. Nancy goes on stuffing her face with food and guzzling her drink, and the rest of the meal goes on without incident.
    After dessert has been served and consumed, the couples leave one by one, all stopping to say goodbye or give condolences before they disappear into the night, except for Gregory and Kent, who slip out quietly with their wives when my father isn’t looking.
    Once everybody’s gone and the house is silent again, my father goes into the kitchen to make sure Miranda and Vanessa are ready to pack away the leftover food and clean up, then returns to the dining room to announce he is turning in early.
    â€œThank you for what you said earlier,” he mumbles as he passes me, his hands stuffed awkwardly into his pockets. “Gregory has always been envious of this estate, and it doesn’t help any that he was rejected by Penelope decades ago and had to marry that horrible Nancy woman...”
    â€œIt’s all right,” I say, unable to resist smiling just a little bit at the visual of Penelope shooting Gregory down. I never heard that before. I wonder if Nancy knows. “He was totally out of line.”
    â€œYou’re making that up,” Margaret scoffs from where she stands beside me in the entry room, at the foot of the grand staircase. It’s the first time she’s spoken since dinner. “Gregory is nicer than I’ve been giving him credit for. It’s his wife who’s out of line. Mom would have been lucky to be with a man like him. She never would have turned him down.”
    My father laughs darkly. “Believe what you want to believe,” he says as he disappears into the unlit hallway that leads to his study. “Good night, girls.”
    â€œGood night,” I call after him.
    â€œYour dad is delusional,” Margaret says with a huff and turns to head up the stairs. “He’s just mad that she didn’t love him .”
    But she did love him, and I’m pretty sure my cousin knows it deep down. Let her continue to deny it; it’s not like it matters anymore, anyway.
    â€œWait,” I say. “You shouldn’t be alone right now. Just come hang out in my room tonight. We can talk, or—”
    â€œIt’s too late for that shit,” she replies without a pause. “By the way, how does it feel to know that you’re not Penelope’s favorite anymore?”
    My heart skips in my chest. “Margaret,” I say as calmly as possible. “You’ve lost your mind. How do you not realize it? A few days ago you said Penelope’s ghost was in the walls, that she wanted you dead. Now you’re closer than you’ve ever been?”
    â€œShe heard us talking the other day in your room.” Margaret is still making her way up the stairs. “After we found those graves. She said I misunderstood, and she explained things to me, she even talked about you —”
    â€œChrist, Margaret!” I cut her off. “What is happening here?”
    She does pause then, midway to the second floor. “Why don’t you tell me?”
    I stare at her, trying to figure out if I believe she is capable of hurting my aunt.
    â€œYou had a bad relationship with Penelope, and now she’s gone,” I say, no longer wanting to hold back, wondering instead if I can make her confess something. “You’re obsessing over it, and you’re taking it out on me because she and I were so close, but you know something, Margaret. You know something that you haven’t told me!”
    â€œYou are so self-centered.” Margaret laughs.