Brittle Hope

Thatcher
“Your family needs to lie low for the next several months, Mrs. Bennett. Given Stan’s financial prowess and philanthropic pursuits, the media is going to run wild with this once the details of the case have leaked.” George McDuffy, my father’s closest friend and attorney, sighed and rubbed his forehead. 
Well, closest outside of his relationship with Astrid’s dad. I had to work hard to suppress my shiver. 
George was a stout proud man, but right then, he was hunched over the table like his entire world had ended two weeks ago. I bit back a bitter laugh. Hadn’t it? I would argue that it had. 
My mother pinched her trembling lips as she thought that over. She’d taken this just as hard as I expected her to. I just couldn’t tell if she was upset because our shining reputation was about to take a beating, or the change of lifestyle she was inevitably going to have. 
Fuck. I wanted to shake her. None of that mattered. It wouldn’t matter at all if she’d just divorce Dad. He didn’t love her anyway. 
I couldn’t keep the sneer off my lips as unwanted pictures of Dad and Astrid’s pastor father popped into my head. At least they weren’t paying too much attention to where I was propped against the wall. 
“Do you know when he’ll be able to come home?” The catch in Mom’s voice twisted a knife in my chest. Damn her for making me care about her. Especially when she wouldn’t do anything to remove the cancer, my father, from her life. 
For several long seconds, George and my mother stared at each other across the formal dining room table where she’d insisted we have this conversation. God forbid we have this conversation in Dad’s office. She wanted this to be more intimate, since he was a family friend. 
Crossing my arms, I tried to come up with a reason for me to skip out on this meeting. Any fucking reason. None came to me, because the sad truth was for now, I was part of this family and for all intents and purposes, lived under Stan Bennett’s roof. 
I needed to know what was going on. How it would affect me as I graduated high school. 
And I had a feeling this might cause quite a few problems I didn’t need. Maybe some I couldn’t overcome, but I’d damn sure try. 
“Barb, I’ve told you before, Stan won’t be able to come home. Not now. The judge has deemed him a flight risk based on your level of wealth and global ties. It’s been a damned miracle nothing has leaked about why he was arrested yet,” George nearly whined as he threw himself back against the high back dining room chair.
She nodded, casting her gaze at the table as if she were unable to hold his stare any longer. 
This was a joke. 
“George, what should we expect?” I pushed away from the wall and leaned against the back of a chair at the foot of our twelve-seater table. Paired with the expensive cloth chairs, and subtly patterned wallpaper just loud enough to give the room what Mom called “character”, it was opulent and a bit pretentious. Everything I hated about this life. 
If our group made it big together, and I had a feeling we’d do better than we hoped we would—eventually—mainly because they were all so talented, my sole goal in life would be to avoid this type of wealthy arrogance. It would be hard, especially for Jonah and Beck who hardly had anything of worth in their eyes, but I’d show them it was the relationship that was important. Keeping Astrid happy. 
Not fancy cars or yachts off the coast, or million-dollar bathrooms. 
Fuck, after the last three weeks of this legal hell, I didn’t even care about my hockey scholarship. I didn’t care about college. If I had my way, we’d all graduate, then move to a state far far away and get jobs to support ourselves. Realistically, I couldn’t ask everyone to throw away their education like that, especially since education was the gateway to better opportunities, but it was tempting. Damn tempting. 
“You’ll need to lay low—” he started. 
“No.” I shook my head, flexing my hands into fists. “Not what’s expected of us in this moment. I know that. Mom knows that. What is the process? How much can we assume this will bleed into our lives?”