“It’s blank.”
“Yes.” Veronica handed her the pen.
Faraday marveled at its heft for a moment—aqua celluloid with red flecks, a gold nib. She turned to me. “Am I supposed to write a number?”
“You only have to sign it,” I said.
“But it’s blank.”
“Yes,” Veronica said.
“So…just my name?”
Aunt Veronica smiled. “You can make anXif you prefer. It’s the thought that counts.”
Faraday looked at me again. “What exactly am I thinking?”
I leaned closer. “That your family and ours are on the same side. Our interests are linked. Your success is our success. Your enemies too.”
“And our money?”
“There’s money for everyone,” Garrett said. “Money is the easy part.”
“I have to ask my brothers, and Mom.”
“Their blood is your blood,” Veronica said. “You don’t need permission. You only need to sign.”
Faraday stared at the blank piece of paper for a while, and none of us said anything. We Mortons are patient. The only noise was the snap and rasp of metal needles and wool.
Finally, Faraday picked up the pen and wroteFWS.
“Is that enough?”
“Yes,” said Veronica.
“Can I keep the pen?”
“No.”
Just your houses, horses, tuition, and Paris.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get breakfast.”
Faraday didn’t react. She stared at her initials on the piece of paper.
“Darling girl,” Grandmother said from the corner. “You may keep the pen.”
Faraday smiled, and the spell broke into bright pieces. The morning sun was shining on the Persian rug, and a flock of starlings wheeled outside, level with the windows of the dome. Beyond them were my family’s fields and forests in all directions.
As Faraday and I stood up from the table, Aunt Veronica lifted the piece of paper from the table and put it in the briefcase with aclick.
Part 2
Savior of HerGeneration
11
Back at Helshire, I sank into my studies.