Skarb Rodzina Monet Part 1 (001 100)

Machine Translated by Google

Illustration and cover design: Dixie Leota

Editor: Maria ÿleszyÿska
Managing editor : Anna Wyÿykowska
Technical editing : Sylwia Rogowska-Kusz
Electronic version composed by : Robert Fritzkowski
Proofreading: Marta Stochmiaÿek, Katarzyna Szajowska
Dear Reader, because some of the

themes and behaviors described in the book may offend the recipients'
feelings, we recommend caution when reading. All events and characters
presented in the novel are fictitious. We wish you good reading,
Author and Publisher
© for the text by Weronika Anna Marczak ©

for the Polish edition by MUZA SA, Warsaw 2022
ISBN 978-83-287-2509-6
You&YA
MUZA SA
1st edition
Warsaw 2022
===Lx4tHikcKxtoWmxZa11sBjADZ1Y3BmMFY1RiW25WMgVhAzMFY1c0Bg==
For people close to me: Asia K., Dominika M., Sylwia W.,
Nikola M., Nikola G., Karolina K., Zuzia P., Basia A., for having
you and for sincerely wishing me well .
For my beloved parents, whose support is irreplaceable.
For the Readers to whom I owe my dream come true.
Contents
1 Monet Residence
2 Rospunka
3 “Now, now, now”
4 Juvenile delinquent
5 Monet's name
6 Trivial things
7 Angel
8 Imperium
9 It's darkest under the lamp
10 Big and loud Dylan

11 Time
12 The cretin
13 Two broken hearts
14 The sweetness of chocolate
15 Playing for the highest stakes
16 Little sister
17 Tony is stupid
18 Hopeless action
19 Something nice
20 The difference between a brother and a
parent 21 Nice eyes

22 Grandpa Vince
23 Beautiful and intelligent

24 Gesture
25 Hang in there, young one
26 Bad dream
27 You're welcome
28 Parody of a Man 29
Everything 30
What do you think, Hailie?
Monet Residence
Earlier that day, my dear grandmother fainted. She fell with the cup
hot tea in hands. There was confusion. My mother shouted at me to watch out
for the sharp pieces of broken pottery, kneeling in them next to my grandmother,
whose wide-open eyes and ghastly white face later haunted me in my nightmares.
I wanted to help so badly, but in the end I contented myself with moving out of my
mother's way as she hurriedly got ready to leave. I remember how she covered
my grandma's shoulders with her coat and led her weak figure out of the
apartment, throwing it over her shoulder to me so that I wouldn't wait and I'd
better go to bed, because it was already late and I had school tomorrow. She said
everything would be fine and finally ordered her to lock the door behind her.
A few long hours later, I opened it to two gloomy policemen. I stood in front of
them in a worn-out T-shirt and plaid shorts. I rubbed my heavy eyelids as one of
them announced in a strained voice that my mother's car had been hit by a drunk
driver. After long hours spent in the hospital, they were returning home with their
grandmother.
Nobody survived.
My heart stopped for a moment and then beat faster. Suddenly my

attempts to wake up turned into deep despair. I don't even know when social
services showed up. Strangers soothed me with soft voices as I sat on the
couch and cried.
I stared blankly at the floor and twitched every time someone touched my
arm. An endless stream of tears streamed down my cheeks, soaking my
pajama top. A hand handed me some tissues, and I didn't really know what
to do with them. The pain I felt at that moment should never be felt by anyone,
especially not a fourteen-year-old girl. I lost my mother and grandmother, the
people closest to me, my only family.
I was sure that I would now be wandering around foster homes like all the
orphans I knew from books and movies. Instead, I soon heard something
that changed my life even more.
Vincent Monet will be my new legal guardian. For one painful moment I
thought that my biological father, whom I knew nothing about, had just been
found. However, it turned out that Vincent was my half-brother. Hearing this
revelation made me feel dizzy.
Brother. I had a brother. Raised as an only child all my life, I now found out
that I have an older brother who agreed to take me under his roof.
Soon I was sitting on a plane, heading towards a new reality.

By then I had more extensive information. I knew I had five brothers, that
they were all older than me and still lived together in the family home in
Pennsylvania. I felt like I was getting sick because I hadn't had contact with
many men in my life before.
Raised without a father, I don't think I ever knew a single uncle.
The only adults of the opposite sex I knew and saw on a fairly regular basis
were a few teachers at school, my doctor, and a neighbor who pretended not
to see me picking cherries from his garden.
The trip passed faster than I would have liked . These less than eight
hours spent on the Atlantic Ocean only made me more nervous.
And when the pilot announced that we would be landing in a few minutes, I
involuntarily started shaking. The woman sitting next to me probably thought
this reaction was the result of a fear of flying and gave me a soothing message
smile. Well, I wouldn't give anything for the cause of my anxiety to be so trivial.
I stood in the customs line, both hands gripping the strap of the sports bag hanging on
my shoulder. I could hear my panicked heart pounding in my ears and it felt like I was on
the verge of having a heart attack.
From time to time I tried to take discreet, deep breaths to calm myself down. If anyone in
the crowd around me was watching me closely, they would definitely think I was smuggling
something illegal. What if the officials won't let me cross the border because I seem
suspicious to them?
I bit my lip so hard it hurt. I grimaced and quickly licked my chapped lips, which had
been in a terrible state lately.
Since life as I knew it ended, I found myself alternately crying and letting my nerves
consume me, so my bad habit of chewing my lips had gotten so much worse.
The protective lipstick was somewhere in a cosmetic bag stuffed into a large suitcase
into which I had to pack almost my entire world. It was a terrible feeling when, after
everything, I stood at the threshold of the apartment where I had lived with my mother and
grandmother almost forever, and realized that I had lost my home in every sense of the
word. Its owner expressed his sincerest condolences to me and immediately asked for it to
be emptied. I couldn't believe that it was the last time my foot was in it. I greatly appreciated
the help of an empathetic social worker who, with great patience and gentleness, helped
me with this unpleasant task, while I was just looking around helplessly in the corners, not
knowing what to do with my hands.
I sighed quietly and looked around. Among the people around me, I hoped to see
someone as lonely as me.
I noticed a few unaccompanied travelers, but none of them seemed similarly lost. Moreover,
there were predominant groups here - friends, couples, and families with children, the sight
of whom made me feel a tightness in my chest.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the screen. No messages or new
calls. No one even asked if I had arrived.
Then cruel reality whispered in my ear the reason for this silence: Hailie
Monet, you left no one behind who would care.
When it was finally my turn, the senior official looked at my passport
photo and then asked me a simple question, to which I answered in a
trembling, hoarse voice. Fortunately, he was not too suspicious and
welcomed me to the United States with a pleasant smile.
I waited at the baggage belt. When my heavy suitcase arrived, a man I

recognized from the plane helped me with it.
As I exchanged pleasantries with him, my ears were pleased by his heavily
British accent. After a while, this man disappeared in the crowd,
disappeared forever in this great country, and I felt that my last, symbolic
ties with England were severed with him.
I tiredly glanced at the dark green wheeled bag at my side, which my
grandmother always took with her on trips to the spa.
It took me a moment to gather myself and grab her handle.
If I could, I would lie down next to her, stare at the ceiling and, ignoring the
people around me, freeze there forever. I was so indifferent to everything
at that moment. I even started to seriously consider hunkering down
somewhere for a while when my phone suddenly vibrated.
I mechanically took out my phone, trying to ignore the fear brewing in
my heart. At the sight of a message sent from a long number unknown to
me, it first stopped and then rang continuously. It was my brother who
wrote to me: "I'm waiting in the arrivals hall, next to the pharmacy." Just
that, nothing more. No greetings, greetings or jokes to lighten the
atmosphere, not even a stupid emoticon.
I held the bag on my shoulder with one hand , and the fingers of the
other gripped the handle of the suitcase tightly. I took slow steps towards
the sliding door, my whole body tensing up tighter and tighter with each
step. I felt as if I was walking slowly into a lion's den. I've read too many
books about evil stepmothers, strict stepfathers and malicious step-siblings.
Yet the people I was about to meet were my stepbrothers. There's no
reason to assume they'll be mean to me.
That's right, I whispered to myself in my head, keeping my head up. Just

before crossing, I stopped for a moment to push my braid back and make sure
I had stuffed my phone into my sweatshirt pocket, and then I just let out a
breath and moved on.
The arrivals hall was a huge room full of noise generated by travelers milling
about. My nostrils were filled with the mingling smells coming from numerous
restaurants and cafes, people ran into each other's arms and laughed at the
sight of their families. And if it were possible, I would probably withdraw from
here and, preferably, get on a plane again to take me back to my home country.
Then, next to the window of a world-famous chain of fast food restaurants, I

saw the characteristic symbol of a pharmacy and, squinting, I hurried in that
direction. My eyes scanned the faces of the people standing there, but I didn't
notice anyone's eyes light up when they saw me. All eyes were passing over
me indifferently, and I didn't even know who to look for, so I finally lowered my
chin to at least focus on taking deliberate steps, so as not to sometimes catch
my shoe on the suitcase wheel and fall over.
– Hailie.
I stopped and turned around abruptly. The first thing I saw was the peak of
the shallow V-neck of the navy blue polo shirt of the man who was now standing
right in front of me. I tilted my head and looked into warm blue eyes that looked
at me with surprisingly friendly eyes.
I opened my mouth to say hello, but before I could even get a word out
word, I closed it again. I didn't even know this man's name.
“ It's good to see you,” he greeted, immediately giving me a sample of his
American accent. He also reached out his arms and wrapped me in a hug. He
performed all gestures slowly, probably deliberately, because he didn't want to
scare me, but at the same time they were not lacking in naturalness. As if I
were really his sister. The one he has known forever and picks up from the
airport after a long separation.
He surprised me with such a nice welcome and I can't say I didn't like it. No
one has hugged me since my mother and grandmother died. In addition
he smelled so nice and fresh, and in his arms I felt the stability and
strength that I was seriously lacking in, especially now.
“ I'm Will,” he introduced himself once he had pulled away from me.
He tilted his chin down, probably to see the expression on my face that I
was trying to discreetly hide from him. I sensed that his eyes, apart from
their general charm, were also quite sharp.
I started analyzing the list of my new brothers I had created in my head, in which I kept
getting lost. If I remembered correctly, Will wasn't the oldest of the siblings.
“ Vince is your legal guardian,” he hurried to explain, as if he had read

my thoughts. – He was supposed to pick you up, but something came
up at work. It happens to him often, you'll get used to it. You'll definitely
meet him today.
He also waved his hand, emphasizing the insignificance of the topic,
and I nodded in understanding. Honestly, at this point I didn't care which
one of them came to pick me up. I just wanted to get out of this crowded
airport, so when Will offered me something to eat at one of the
restaurants since it would take us a good two hours to get home, I
thanked him and politely but firmly declined.
Will opened his mouth to stand his ground, but then changed his mind
and, to my relief, let it go. He glanced at the dial of the fancy watch that
gleamed elegantly on his left wrist, then held out the same hand for my
luggage. Not only did he take over my suitcase, but he also insisted that
I give him my shoulder bag as well. He turned a deaf ear to my protests,
and finally, for the first time in a long time, I could breathe, having
removed all the travel burden. I followed him, observing how expertly he
carried my luggage.
As we stepped outside, I took another deep, loud breath.
I closed my eyes, feeling a light breeze on my face. For the first time in
my life, I stood on another continent and I definitely felt a difference in
the air that was hard to describe. America just smelled different, more
distinct.
Will led me to his car, which was black, large and luxurious. It must
have been a jeep, but I didn't want to look out
with nomenclature, because my knowledge of the automotive industry was

around zero. Anyway, it was a car I definitely wasn't used to traveling in. I
also experienced a moment of confusion when the man opened the door on
the right side for me to sit in the passenger seat.
Stupid me, I forgot that in the United States, traffic drives on the right. This
was the first glaring difference between my native England and this new
country that I noticed.
Will didn't comment on my confusion, but he smiled to himself, obviously
understanding of any blunders I was about to make. This reassured me,
because now more than ever I desperately needed gentle and understanding
treatment. I was even more pleasantly surprised by my brother's little
gestures, like when he made sure the air conditioning wasn't blowing too
much on me, or when he handed me a sealed bottle of water. I didn't expect
even such basic care at all and I immediately felt sympathy for this stranger
who was my family.
Leaving the airport involved navigating a veritable maze of roads, requiring
Will's utmost concentration. Thanks to this, I could look at him for a longer
time several times without fear that he would return them.
My newfound brother kept surprising me. I didn't know what to expect, but
none of the various images of my new siblings that appeared in my head
came close to the original. It wasn't that Will was handsome, because he
was my brother and I didn't spend time assessing his attractiveness in detail,
but that he had a natural neatness about him that my innate perfectionism
greatly appreciated.
The dark blonde hair may look disheveled, but something told me the
owner had styled it to look that way himself. I was also prejudiced against
men with beards because they made me anxious, but I accepted Will's
delicate and perfectly groomed facial hair.
He now covered his blue eyes with flashy sunglasses, even though the sky
was rather cloudy.
Soon we were on a straight road and I started something like a
conversation with him. I answered his polite and very general questions
briefly and quietly, and was saddened to discover how hoarse my voice had become durin
when his own was clear and betrayed endless layers of self-confidence.
I found out that Will is twenty-four years old and that only Vince (only after a while I
realized it's short for Vincent) is the older one, and there are twenty-eight of them. The
eldest brother is also famous for his workaholism and always tight schedule. Will, however,
spoke of him with respect, noting that Vincent was doing a good job as head of the family
business, which he was forced to take over at a young age. He also confirmed that all five
of them live in their family villa, and the younger boys are still studying.
We actually drove for over two hours and for most of the way we were just silent. My
fault, because I wasn't very talkative, and Will didn't seem to want to pressure me, which I
secretly thanked him for. At one point he even discreetly turned up the music. A compilation
of Depeche Mode's greatest hits was playing, and although I didn't know their songs very
well, strangely enough they seemed to be the perfect background for my first moments in
the United States. I stared out the window a lot, thinking. Until recently, visiting New York
was my biggest dream. Now, as I looked at the Manhattan skyscrapers looming in the
distance, I felt sick. It's not that I didn't want to be here. The circumstances just didn't add
up.
At the next stage of the journey, on both sides of the road, we began to see a nice,
although in the long run boring, sight of densely planted trees with golden crowns, certainly
hiding a lot of natural wonders in their rows. As it turned out, a similar forest surrounded
the residence where I was to live with my new brothers. Soon we left the main road and
stopped in front of a large gate - very high and very wide. It opened automatically for us,
and then we drove a little further until a building emerged from behind the trees.
It seemed to come out of nowhere and immediately overwhelmed me. It looked like it
was an integral part of the forest, it fit into the scenery so perfectly. You couldn't even
judge its size; all I could say was that it seemed really big. The trees behind him gave the
impression of a great golden tsunami wave that would hang behind him forever. It wasn't
a modern, newly built villa, but rather something much more
climate. The color of the building's facade resembled the sand on a paradise
beach, while the soaring roof was gray and on a cloudy day like today, it almost
blended with the sky. The yard was very large, but apart from that it didn't make
much of an impression, at least not from the front. Just nicely and evenly cut
grass, which in some places was decorated with bushes or piles of raked leaves.
The sidewalk connected with the driveway, creating a large square in front of the
house. On the left side there was a garage that looked slightly different from the
house, which made me guess that it had been built on. It had two wide, light brown
doors and probably a lot of room inside, but I didn't get to check it out today
because Will decided to park outside.
He winked at me sympathetically as he turned off the engine.
- Welcome home.
I responded with a quick, nervous smile. Will got out and I glanced at my plain
black leggings, the ones from a multipack my mom had picked up for me at the
supermarket somewhere. For a navy blue sweatshirt, which in turn came from a
sale. For dark hair gathered into a loose, long braid that is a bit worn out after
traveling. Needless to say, I felt like I looked like a little poor girl and didn't fit in at
all.
And if I had any doubts about it, the view inside the house dispelled them. I
was once on a class trip to a museum, the corridors of which looked equally
exclusive, and it would never have occurred to me that one day I would live in a
similarly decorated place. I was even afraid to take steps on the shiny marble floor
as I might get it dirty or damage it. What was most impressive here was probably
the wide staircase. They looked like piano keys, scattered like dominoes, rising
up in a gentle semicircle.
I stared at the large painting hanging on one of the walls. It seemed like a
whole range of colors were used to paint it, but they were all strangely faded. This
added to the spookiness of the painting of the man whose handsome face was in
the foreground. And right behind him lurked a hideous, colorful menace, so
terrifying that when Will touched my arm to make me follow him, I looked away
with relief.
To the right was a vaulted passage leading to the kitchen, which was
sparkling clean and fresh. Especially the first few miles surprised me,
because it wasn't what I expected from a place where five boys lived. The
room was large and decorated in white. The wide tabletops looked as if
they were covered with snow. Just behind the island there was a large
table with nice and simple chairs. This part of the kitchen was illuminated
by a huge window, behind which the autumn colors contrasted beautifully
with the brightness. However, my attention was immediately caught by the
boy who occupied one of the mentioned chairs.
Just a quick glance and I knew he was my next brother.
– Hailie, this is Dylan. Dylan… this is our sister Hailie,” Will introduced
us and pulled out the seat for me, which I politely took, although if it were
up to me, I would have chosen a seat other than the one across from
Dylan, who glanced at me over his laptop and studied me for several long seconds.
I expected us to at least shake hands as a greeting, but he was in no rush
to initiate such gestures, and I was too embarrassed by his gaze alone to
reach out to him first.
His eyes were dark and much less pleasant than Will's, although there
were a few similarities between the two, such as high cheekbones and an
equally expressive upper lip. I don't think I've ever felt as uncomfortable in
my life as I did in that moment, Dylan's intense gaze on me. There was
something about him that disturbed me.
Maybe I was intimidated by his impressive muscles, highlighted by his tight T-shirt? Or
maybe it was just the lack of warmth with which Will greeted me…
I started looking around the room, trying to escape the power of his
eyes. By the way, I noticed a few things, such as a huge two-door
refrigerator, which in my old apartment would take up one third of the
kitchen area. On the counter in the corner was a modern coffee machine
with a billion buttons and knobs, and right next to it was another fancy
device that looked like a modified juicer.
Will now stood next to the microwave, which was working quietly, and
focused on his phone for a moment, typing briskly on the keyboard.
When I carefully glanced at Dylan again after a while, he was back
staring at the computer screen, a hint of mischief on his lips.
smile. I moved my gaze to the large window, behind which I could see a green, evenly
mowed lawn, in some places covered with withered leaves, and a little further in the
background there were trees. Among them, one could distinguish green ones, coniferous
ones, as well as deciduous ones, red ones, golden ones, and bald and brown ones. Playing
with the fingers of my hands, I stared blankly at them until the microwave buzzed.
– Our housekeeper doesn't work on Sundays, but she prepared this yesterday especially
for you. If you don't like it, feel free to tell me.
We can always order something. Whatever you want, he said
Will soon placed a steaming plate of delicious-looking baked pasta in front of me. As soon
as I digested the mention of domestic help, I grabbed my fork.
I felt stressed, eating alone , in a strange place, with strangers watching me, so it was
very slow. I felt sorry that my esophagus was tight with nerves and I couldn't really enjoy
the taste of this amazing meal. All I managed to do was burn my tongue.
I tried to be polite and orderly, just like my mother always taught me. I ate with a knife
and fork, sat upright with my shoulder blades pulled back and was careful not to get
anything dirty. I was even careful not to rest my elbows on the table. Will left us for a
moment when his phone rang, and I felt even more uncomfortable being left alone with
Dylan. I regretted now that I hadn't accepted the offer to eat something at the airport without
this boy's embarrassing presence. He didn't say a word to me, I only felt his gaze on me
from time to time.
I didn't know whether I should be disappointed in his coldness or glad that he wasn't
bothering me. Either way, I was relieved when Will came back.
– I'll show you your bedroom, okay? – he suggested as I put down my fork.
Despite my sincere intentions, I couldn't eat everything on my plate because I had

difficulty swallowing and the portion served to me was excessively large. Fortunately, Will
wasn't offended. Standing up, I grabbed a dish to clean up after myself, and he
he immediately took them from me, asking me not to bother. However, he

seemed pleased with my attitude. That's good, because I really wanted to make
the best impression possible.
I relaxed as soon as we left the kitchen, leaving the uncomfortable Dylan behind. I
guess I didn't mask these feelings well enough, because Will immediately quietly commented:
– Dylan is difficult, but don't worry about him at all. I need a moment
to get used to the situation. You know, it's completely new for us too.
I nodded, trying to show the right amount of empathy.
Will seemed to appreciate this, because the corners of his mouth turned up and he
pointed behind me.
– There, just to the right, is the living room. We hang out there a lot. And how?
you go straight, you'll find the bathroom and the library. Do You like to read?
- I love.
For the first time that day, I managed to sound loud and confident.
Reading was my true passion, and as the world's greatest bookseller, I considered
having a separate room for books at home to be a fulfillment of my wildest dreams.
– Great, then. We have quite a large collection, maybe you will add it soon?
Feel free to visit it whenever you feel like it. – Will gestured towards the long
corridor. – Next you'll reach the gym. We also have a sauna and another
bathroom there. All this is at your disposal too.
I guessed that this Dylan guy must be a frequent visitor to that part of the
house, at least judging by the size of his biceps, so I immediately made plans to
avoid that area. Anyway, it wasn't a problem for me - I wasn't a big sports fan.
“You can go out to the terrace from the gym and living room,” Will continued. – There is a swimming
pool there, but unfortunately it has already been secured for the winter.
Even if I wanted to comment on it, I wouldn't know how.

So I stayed silent and let Will lead me to the stairs. Slime,
I held on to the smooth black railing and looked away as I passed the
disturbing image mentioned earlier.
– Up here, we all have our bedrooms. There are guest rooms at the end,
my guide explained to me as we stood at the top of the stairs.
The hall looked quite simple. The floor was made of dark wood, the walls
were white and tasteful candlesticks hung on them. – The corridor on the
right leads to another part of the house. We work there, so it would be best
if you avoided him, okay? We often receive clients, we need silence and no
one should hang around there. – Will's blue eyes flashed intensely.
The corridor he was talking about looked inconspicuous and suddenly

turned, so there was no way to see where it led without venturing deeper
into it. I nodded indifferently. - Great.
We then arrived at my assigned bedroom. Along the way, we passed

rows of doors, distinguished from each other only by the fact that,
approximately at the level of my brother's face, who was at least a head
taller than me, there were letters attached to them, which Will explained to
me were the first letters of the tenants' names. I shuddered at the sight of
those marked with a large silver "H".
– This is your room. I invite.
My fingers shook slightly as I tightened my grip on the silver doorknob.
I also held my breath and felt as if I was about to enter Narnia. I wasn't
blinded by the mysterious glow coming from inside, although when I entered
my new, small and very bright kingdom, I actually squinted.
One reason for this brightness was the cream-colored walls, another -
the windows parallel to the large bed, which stretched from floor to ceiling.
Thanks to them, a lot of daylight came in, even on days as sunny as today.
The white muslin curtains had faded green ribbons tied into large, beautiful
bows on the sides. The furniture didn't clutter up the space because there
wasn't much of it. A white desk with curved legs in the Victorian style was
placed near the windows, so its empty top was perfectly lit. A large armchair
was also standing
close to the window and I admit that the very sight of it made me want to sit there with a
blanket and a book, and use the nearby low table with roses painted using the decoupage
technique as a place to put a cup of tea or cocoa. There was, of course, a bedside table
next to the bed, with a lamp on it with a completely white, wide shade covered with drawings
of golden flowers.
Before I could think about where I would put my clothes since there was no closet, I
noticed two doors. They were right next to each other, on one wall, perfectly integrated into
it, and even before Will came and showed me the additional rooms, I already knew what
was hidden behind them. One of them was, of course, the wardrobe.
She wasn't intimidated by her unnecessarily large size. On the contrary, it was perfect,
although still too big for me and my clothes.
Opposite the entrance there was a mirror with a thin gold frame, in which I could look at
myself from head to toe, and on its sides there were bars with dozens of hangers, as well
as plenty of shelves, drawers, and even a few smaller boxes for jewelry and accessories.
“ Your school uniforms,” Will informed me when he noticed me staring at a set of identical
sets of clothes neatly hung next to each other in one of the corners of the dressing room. –
There are also pajamas, something comfortable to wear around the house, a sweatshirt in
case you get cold… – he listed, pointing to individual items that occupied particular places
in the wardrobe. – Let's say it's a welcome set. Don't worry, if you need it, we will order the
rest of your clothes online.
“Thank you,” I murmured politely, glancing at the stiff dark jackets that reminded me of
another change life had in store for me. The very thought of a new school made my
temporarily dormant airport nerves awaken, so I quickly got rid of it.
There will come a time to worry about it.

The room next door was slightly larger and turned out to be a bathroom. The tiles here
were large, gray and shiny. The glass door led to the shower, where there was a place to
sit, a shelf for gels and shampoos, and even a recess for putting clothes and a towel so that
they didn't get wet during showering.
bath. There was also a fluffy white bathrobe hanging here that looked so delicate that
it might fall apart in your hand. Of course, there was a simple white toilet, a cabinet
built into the wall for colorfully arranged towels, and a round white bowl that served as
a washbasin, with a mirror hanging above it.
I immediately felt relieved that in a house full of men I would have my own private
bathroom. Will kept making comments that supplemented what we were seeing. For
example, he informed me that the housekeeper was cleaning and changing the towels,
that I should find various basic bathroom accessories in the cabinet, but he assured
me that we would buy what I would need.
I nodded politely to show that I was listening and understanding, but there was only
one thought in my head. Madness. This is pure madness.
I guess I'm supposed to stay in some fancy hotel, because how else can I explain the
bathrobes and towel exchange? As I thought about this, Will and I stood back in the
middle of the bedroom.
– I'll bring your luggage in a moment . Freshen up, get some sleep… Whatever you
want. Remember this is your home. Feel at ease here. – With these words, my
newfound brother left me alone.
I shook my head in disbelief. It is my house. This cabin from MTV Cribs is my new
home. Where I was supposed to feel at ease. I didn't believe I would ever succeed. I
looked around again. The very thought of falling asleep and waking up in such a room
every day made me feel like a princess for a moment and I couldn't shake the dark
feeling of anxiety and strangeness. Maybe I'm here because I signed a contract with
the devil in my dream?
I shuddered.
I locked myself in the bathroom to take a shower, learning how to use it for about
five minutes. I grabbed the first gel I could find from the cupboard.
And then, feeling fresh and fragrant, I wrapped myself in this wonderfully soft bathrobe
and trotted barefoot to the next dressing room. I jumped into the extremely comfortable
sweatpants given to me, and when I finally fell onto the extremely comfortable mattress,
pressing a random pillow under my head, my eyes fell on
bags that Will had already placed against the wall. It was all amazing and I
had to tell my mother about it.
Fortunately , I fell asleep before I could remember that I no longer had
a mother.
I woke up in darkness. I blinked, then propped myself up on my elbow
to speed up my thought process and remember what had happened. As a
wave of memories of recent events flooded me and I became accustomed
to them, I got out of bed and felt for my phone. It was already after nine in
the evening. I slept a bit.
Will said I would see Vincent later today, and although I had no desire to
leave my room and meet more of my brothers, I knew it would be rude.
I peeked out the door into an empty and dark corridor.

Using the flashlight on my phone, I dashed through it quite quickly, because
such a quiet and dark hall in an unfamiliar house only provoked my already
overactive imagination. Fortunately, it was brighter downstairs and I
immediately heard voices coming from there. However, I quickly felt
uncomfortable because they sounded quite agitated. I turned off the
flashlight and stood still, standing uncertainly in the middle of the stairs,
debating whether this would be a good time to go down to the living room.
“ We don't wander anywhere ,” said one of the voices.
– And not at night – added the second one, sounding similar but more gruff.
“Mhm, you're being careless and I don't like it,” growled the third one,
definitely the most composed, but also the coldest.
I swallowed and began to seriously consider going back
bedroom when I suddenly heard a whisper behind me.
– Are you eavesdropping?
Rospunka
I went completely numb, but I turned around immediately and my eyes were wide open
eyes landed on Dylan's face. His lips twisted into a sneer, but a dark aura
still radiated from him.
Only now did I see how tall he was. Apart from his impressive muscles,
he also successfully managed to embarrass me with his tall height, making
me completely forget that I hadn't done anything wrong.
I shook my head, unable to say a word. Dylan laughed softly and passed
me, making his way down at a lazy jog.
I looked after him, frozen. He'll probably tell the others that Hailie is lurking
in corners and eavesdropping on other people's conversations. They
certainly won't like it, and I didn't want to make such an impression on my
found brothers, so I quickly followed him, determined to defend myself.
– You are all careless. Maybe you'd like to let our new little sister in on
your secrets right away? – Dylan exclaimed, rushing to the huge corner in
the living room, where the sounds of the conversation, part of which I
heard, were coming from. After he entered, she immediately stopped.
I stopped at the threshold. I would expect the living room to be

colossal in such a large house, but this room was surprisingly cozy. In
addition to the corner sofa, the lounge set also included a small sofa
placed on the side and an armchair. In the middle was a low coffee
table where Dylan had just placed his legs. Between the corner sofa
and the armchair there was a modern, slim fireplace with a cheerfully
colorful electric flame dancing in it. The windows were huge, and the
heavy gray curtains were obviously just for decoration, because even
though it was pitch black outside, no one had closed them.
Well , the thing that caught the eye the most was the big TV. It hung
on the wall in a thick carved gold frame like a work of art. The PlayStation
logo had just appeared on the screen when Dylan dug out the controller
tucked into the cushions and turned it on.
My gaze quickly moved to the three people standing next to the
fireplace. Before I could get a good look at them, I knew they had to be
my other brothers. There was just something about their manner that I
had noticed before in Will and Dylan.
Currently, everyone was digesting the latter's words. Two of them
were almost identical young boys. I knew my youngest brothers were
twins, but for some reason I didn't expect them to look so much alike.
Meanwhile, both of them had short, thick and rather disheveled dark
hair, strongly defined jaws, quite thick eyebrows and light eyes. Although
they weren't dressed the same, their outfits shared a similar, casual
style. I was relieved to see a tiny black earring in one of them's eyebrows.
I decided to use it as a characteristic feature that would help me
distinguish them from each other.
The third person was the oldest man present. He had his back to
me, but when Dylan's words reached him, he turned and stared at me
with a blue gaze that immediately made me regret my decision to leave
the bedroom.
He had dark, neatly slicked back hair and was dressed in a classic
black shirt and pants of the same color. He was tall and portly, which
was apparently a characteristic of all the Monet brothers. He also
radiated natural elegance and haughtiness.
After a while, I was the central attraction of everyone present. There was
silence, accompanied only by the goofy sounds of Dylan's intro playing.
Oh God, how uncomfortable I felt! We had to stay in bed until morning.
I almost hugged the wall, crushed by the weight of all the eyes looking at me from
top to bottom. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was an intruder.
Okay , Hailie, it's time to speak up.

– I didn't hear anything , really. – I cleared my throat to clear it
hoarseness. – I stopped on the stairs because I didn't want to disturb…
I mainly looked at the oldest man. He was the dominant one here and he was
the one I most wanted to convince of my innocence, so I was relieved when he
nodded.
“It's okay, Hailie,” he replied. In contrast, his voice was calm and cold, although
it sounded slightly softer than when he addressed the twins. -I was waiting for
you to come down. I would like to speak with you.
Please, let me follow you.
I deduced myself that it must be Vincent, my legal guardian.
He glanced at Dylan as he said the last words. The sounds of his playing were
getting louder and more irritating. However, he did not pay attention to him, and
instead approached me and gestured with his hand for me to go ahead. I was all
tense, but I tried to pretend that everything was fine, so without any resistance I
allowed him to lead me towards the next door.
It took me a while to realize that he hadn't even introduced the twins to me,
but based on my limited knowledge of his new family, I guessed they must have
been Shane and Tony. I just didn't know which one was which.
Vincent took me to the library, which Will had already whispered to me about.
It was decorated quite tastefully: warm wooden accents intertwined with gray and
pastel green. The walls were practically non-existent here, because (apart from
the windows, the secretary and the piano pushed into the corner) the entire
surface was covered with high shelves full of books.
I liked that there were so many of them. That's the only thing that keeps me here
she calmed down. I was curious if any of the guys had read at least a few of them.
Like this whole Dylan thing.
The man took the armchair and pointed me to the sofa with an elegant gesture,
and then for the first time I noticed the large signet ring he wore on the middle
finger of his right hand.
“ I'm sorry to hear about the deaths of your loved ones,” Vincent began as soon
as I sat down. His voice was devoid of any emotion.
I felt sad and tried not to think that now one of the people closest to me would be
this icy man. – As your oldest brother, I became your legal guardian. You have
already been informed about this, right?
I nodded.
- All right. How do you feel?
This question surprised me, and I would have even been ready to be moved
by his concern, if it weren't for the fact that it was asked in the same indifferent tone.
So in response I just shrugged my shoulders and muttered cautiously:
- All right.
Vincent leaned back in his chair, and I thought to myself that a similar
atmosphere must accompany stiff job interviews. I've never tried for one, but I
heard it's not pleasant.
– I am aware that the situation you find yourself in is difficult for you. I'm afraid
I won't be able to make it much easier for you, he announced, and then added: -
I'll do what I can, of course, but there are many changes waiting for you, which I
should prepare you for.
Even more? I listened to him tensely. I didn't know what to expect at all. A
thousand thoughts ran through my head. Maybe he'll lock me in my new bedroom
like Rapunzel? Or force you to clean and cook like Cinderella? I glanced casually
at his shiny shoes. Someone has to polish them eventually. Because I can't
believe he's doing this
himself.
– First , I would like to familiarize you with the general principles of operation of
this house. In our family, we care very much about privacy and security. – Here he
made a short pause to emphasize that he himself cares about these two things
the most. – First of all, I would like you to know
that our entire property is fenced. Our house is watched twenty-four hours
a day, seven days a week. Additionally, dogs are generally allowed out at
night. It is very important that you remember not to go outside without
telling one of us first. Not that I expected something like that would even
occur to you, of course.
He fell silent again , looking intently into my eyes, and I tried to keep
my expression as neutral as possible. At first I was happy to hear the
mention of animals, but I quickly realized that the dogs Vincent was
talking about were probably not fluffy Shih Tzus.
– Originally, I planned to organize individual teaching for you, here, at home…
Oh, so Rapunzel after all. – …

however, I finally decided to enroll you in school. It is a private high
school with very high standards. “He clasped his hands and tilted his
head, as if he was quickly assessing whether I could meet those
standards. – Your academic results so far are high enough, so I expect
that you will have no problem with quickly making up for any gaps. If this
turns out to be otherwise, you will let me know immediately and I will hire
a private tutor to help you catch up.
I was silent, trying to remember everything he said in that monotonous

voice whose steely tone made me constantly be on my guard.
– Dylan, Shane and Tony go to the same school. Their classes are
held in a separate wing, but you will definitely see each other during your
lunch breaks. They will also be responsible for your daily transportation
to and from your home unless otherwise agreed. Is everything clear to
you now?
I nodded, accepting the thought that I would have to commute to
classes every day.
– I wo n't ask the impossible from you, Hailie. However, it is important
for you to know that I despise stupidity and thoughtlessness. I sincerely
hope that you are intelligent not only on paper. I hope you will
she stayed out of trouble. - Vincent tilted his head slightly forward and
raised his eyebrows. – I also don't think I need to mention obvious
prohibitions, such as no stimulants. Do I need to mention them, Hailie?
His gaze became even more intense as he waited for

answer, and I swallowed reflexively.
“ No ,” I whispered.
- All right. – He straightened up in his chair. – I'm sure you'll agree
that it would be prudent for me to point out that at the age of fourteen
your social life should be appropriately limited. I won't forbid you from
going to the cinema with a friend on the weekend without any reason,
but I don't think you're at the right age to go on potential dates with the
opposite sex. I believe you understand what I'm talking about.
Therefore, whenever you plan to go out, do not forget to inform one of
us about the meeting place, time and people accompanying you. This
isn't about controlling you, it's about your safety.
All this was starting to give me a headache. His way of speaking

was truly overwhelming. It made me stop mentioning out loud that I was
almost fifteen.
– Due to completely different daily plans, we rarely all manage to sit
down for a meal together. This should not be an obstacle for you from
eating regular breakfasts and dinners, which are prepared every day
by our domestic help. As far as I know, you don't have any allergies,
but you can let her know about any taste preferences you may have.
Within reason, of course. If you need specific products, I mean food or
hygiene products, enter them on the list that hangs on the refrigerator
door in the kitchen.
Eugenie systematically implements it.
I nodded.
– You should pay special attention to your social media.
I would ask that you carefully consider your privacy settings, as well as
what you post in them, and ideally discuss this with one of us first.
“ I only have bookstagram,” I said, clearing my throat.

Vincent wanted to continue, but upon hearing my interruption, he raised an eyebrow.
- I'm listening?
– An account where I post reviews of books I have read. It's a hobby combined with
reading. Quite a lot of people follow me. I recommend them the best stories, in my opinion
- I explained patiently and matter-of-factly, as I really wanted to be understood properly.
My new guardian listened to me, and a shadow of something that might have been a
smile crossed his stony face, although I didn't want to go too far with my assumptions.
Anyway, he nodded and said, "Okay."
Okay. If it's okay, it's okay.

– I trust you're old enough to know what's good for you, so I'm not going to interfere
with every part of your life until I need to. I can only advise you to go to bed at a reasonable
time. It's important that you are rested during the day. Don't leave your studies and
homework until the last minute, it won't work at this school, and I hope it will become your
priority.
Vincent's phone vibrated, momentarily drawing his attention.

which he quickly transferred back to me, taking up the next thread.
– Due to the nature of my work, I am often unavailable, so please remember that our
other brothers will also watch over your acclimatization in the new reality. Legally, of
course, you are under my care and I would like you to come to me with important matters,
but if necessary, the others will also be responsible for you - he explained and added,
seeing my face: - I know that the twins are only one year older than you. two years, but
you will see for yourself that they can be helpful.
Vincent's formal manner of speaking was stressful in itself, but again, I nodded in
complete agreement with him. Actually
I was more doubtful of Dylan's helpfulness than the twins', but I wasn't going to
talk about that now.
- I do n't want to sound unpleasant - he started, and in other circumstances I
would probably snort ironically - so I'll mention it once.
I don't tolerate disrespect and I really don't like lying. Please remember this.
For a moment I wanted to answer him something like, "Yes, sir." Brother or no
brother, he was a stranger to me who dictated his terms to me, while I knew I had
little say in it. Vincent didn't seem like a person willing to compromise. Not that his
rules were particularly different from those I knew very well from home. My mother
just never recited them to me in such an overwhelming way.
– I know Will has already warned you about this, but I think it's worth mentioning
it again. Please don't hang around the staff wing without a specific reason. If you
need something and no one is around, it's best to call." Vincent took a piece of
paper folded in half from the pocket of his elegant trousers and leaned over to
hand it to me. Written on the paper in neat handwriting were five numbers marked
with my brothers' initials. – Please save them in your phone.
“ Okay ,” I muttered and put the piece of paper in the pocket of my sweatpants.
I stared at his signet ring again, and at that moment I was struck by the gulf
between my clothes and Vincent's. He looked like he had escaped from a business
meeting, while I was fit only for wrapping myself in a fluffy blanket and watching
some unambitious comedy.
Finally, the moment I had been waiting for came and we came to the end of
this demanding introductory session. Vincent suggested that it was time for me to
ask any questions that came to my mind. There were many unclear issues, but
they were things that I didn't think about on the spot, and I accepted that it took
patience to clarify them.
However, there was one thing I had to ask about.

– We have the same father, right? – I asked softly. It wasn't easy for me to recall
his character. Vincent seemed to expect me to bring it up, because he just nodded
stiffly. – What happened to him?
- Dead . Four years ago he died in an accident. – My brother did not take his eyes
off me, giving me this tragic information completely dispassionately.
Without a hint of irony, I thought that a lot of these accidents run in the family.
I swallowed bitterly , nodding in understanding. I wanted to say more, but nothing
came to mind, and my throat tightened and I decided there was no point in dwelling on
the death of another parent, especially one who had missed the fact that he had a
daughter in addition to his sons.
- That's all?
- I think so.
The man stood up slowly and smoothed his already smooth shirt.
As if on command, I also stood up, pulling the sleeves of my sweatshirt over my hands.
I waited for his signal that our conversation was over. It seemed necessary to me
because of how formally he conducted it.
– If there's anything else on your mind, you can always come to me with it. There's
no point in cluttering your head with wild guesses.
- I will remember.
“ Okay ,” he concluded and pointed to the shelves surrounding us, saying, “
By the way, maybe you'll find something here to review for your account.
– I'll definitely take a look.
I could n't wait until one day, maybe even tomorrow, that I could sneak in here and roam
around without Vincent hanging over me and stressing me out.
This was the end of my first and not last conversation with my eldest brother. As we
were leaving the library, he invited me into the kitchen for dinner.
He warned us that, unfortunately, today's schedule turned out to be very tight, so we
wouldn't all be able to meet at the table, but he announced that tomorrow we would
definitely sit down to eat together.
Only the twins accompanied us that evening. Of the three brothers present, Shane was the
nicest, and he tried to talk to me to make me feel a little less awkward. It's the one with the tiny
black ring in the eyebrow. He sat across from me, eating mashed potatoes, and then he talked
to me with his mouth full so I could barely understand him. His American accent didn't make
things easier, but I consoled myself that getting used to it was surely only a matter of time and
the least of my problems. I appreciated Shane's efforts because, for example, Tony, sitting next
to me, remained silent and never looked up from his plate.
I gave him a few fleeting and shy glances and noticed that, first of all, he (like Shane) had
very long eyelashes.
So long that I could suspect that they were artificial, if it weren't for the fact that the boy, although
well-groomed, did not give the impression of someone who would care about such cosmetic
interference. The second thing I discovered was when, before he grabbed the fork, he rolled up
the sleeves of his black sweatshirt. On his left arm, an impressive tattoo rose upwards from the
palm of his hand, and it must have reached up to his neck, because part of it protruded from
behind his collar. I didn't dare analyze him for too long because Tony didn't seem like a nice
person and I didn't want him to catch me staring at him. I only managed to see and distinguish
some strange abstract patterns and a piece of a dragon's tail, covered with scales and spikes,
which confirmed my belief that the boy had a real work of art on his shoulder.
He and Vincent didn't say much, especially to me, so Shane really surprised me. He told me
a little about the school I would be going to. The twins were in their penultimate year there.
Dylan – on the last one.
– Teachers are a bit of a pain, probably like everywhere else, but since Vince donates a lot
of money to the school, we get a discount. " He winked mischievously at me, and for the first
time in days, something that wasn't even remotely close to a chuckle escaped my lips.
" Don't tell her things like that," Vincent admonished him, his slightly furrowed eyebrows
clearly signaling slight irritation.
Tony snorted under his breath, and Shane, ignoring our oldest brother's comment,
winked at me again. This time, however, I was afraid to react, so I looked down and stuffed
my mouth with another bite of food, which I had once again eaten too much of.
I could n't relax after talking to Vincent. He stressed me out with his rules and the
dryness with which he spoke to me. I noticed that he also treated boys in a similar way, so
it was probably just his style, but it didn't really cheer me up. The prospect of being
dependent on him for the next few years of my life was depressing me.
Right after the meal, the twins disappeared, and Vincent explained to me various little
details, such as the housekeeper's working hours and other details that he had missed
earlier or were simply less important to mention right away.
When he was finished, we climbed the stairs and separated. I went to my new, royal
bedroom and, after taking one last look at him, I just had time to notice his silhouette
disappearing into the corridor leading to the staff wing.
"Now now now"
I quickly learned that the Monet Mansion was like a field

mines. Most of the time there was relative silence here, a bit disastrous
because at every step there was a danger of bumping into one of the
brothers. I tried to avoid them, especially those who did not arouse
particular sympathy in me. I was relieved when the next day I managed
to make it from my bedroom to the kitchen without being interrupted by them.
First, I woke up around four in the morning because jet lag was taking
its toll on me. My body wasn't fully rested, but I couldn't get back to sleep
either, so I lay in bed for a long time, watching my beautiful new bedroom
get brighter and brighter. At one point I dug out my phone from under
the pillow and left it there, connected to the charger. To do this, I had to
crawl to the edge of the mattress, which I couldn't imagine doing. I don't
think I've ever slept in such a big bed.
Until about seven o'clock I was checking the arrears on my book
account. I added a few things to read to my waiting list and responded
to a few comments. Later, with a sigh, I opened several private messages
that I had previously decided to ignore for some reason.
One of them was from Aunt Marie, a truly foreign woman, my grandmother's sister,
whom I knew only by name. She lived in Ireland with her family, with whom we never had
any contact. I knew she wasn't looking forward to taking me under her wing, especially since
she was already very old and a bit bitter, and her children and their children didn't really
know me. She was the only person there who had bothered to attend the funeral, and I
could almost see the relief written on her wrinkled face when she learned that I had a new
caregiver and she didn't have to make any excuses for why she couldn't care for me even
though he wants it so much. I replied to her dry polite message equally laconicly and moved
on to the next one.
This one was a bit more extensive. No wonder, because I got it from Roxane, my
childhood friend. It's a sad thing, because once we couldn't be separated, and then she
moved with her parents back to her native Greece, and unfortunately our contact suffered
greatly. Despite our efforts, it was difficult for us to maintain our friendship as before.
However, I knew that even if our friendship faded, I could still count on Roxane's support,
especially in such tragic moments for me.
The last unread text message I received was from a friend from school with whom I had
nothing in common except superficial friendship. I couldn't shake the feeling that she had
written this message surrounded by a group of sensation-hungry people, many of whom
were in the halls of my former school, so in response I slightly reworked the content I had
sent to Aunt Marie and put down the phone with another sigh.
And that would be it. With a heavy heart, I climbed out of bed, mentally preparing myself
to welcome a new day, full of hardships and ghostly brothers. I took a thorough shower,
dressed neatly and combed my hair, made the bed, opened the window to air the room, and
unpacked my luggage. My belongings took up only a measly part of the wardrobe space.
I spent a good half hour staring at the little gold heart-shaped earrings that lay in an
elegant box, tucked into a white velvet pillow. It's a gift from mom that was previously only
valuable, but now has become priceless. I allowed myself a moment
I felt emotional, but when I pulled myself together after her, I couldn't delay any
longer and decided to leave the bedroom.
That morning I met Eugenie, the housekeeper Vincent told me about.
Humming unknown melodies under her breath, she wiped the countertops to
the accompaniment of the sounds of the dishwasher running.
“Good morning,” I greeted politely, stroking him with one hand
unconsciously on the other's elbow.
The woman froze, then suddenly turned around. Her eyes lit up when she
saw me. Her short but luscious curls were tied with a thick, colorful braid, which
made something like a haystack on her head, but I shooed away this unpleasant
thought, because she immediately won me over with an extremely nice, wide
smile in which she showed the entire row of her upper teeth. Eugenie was an
older lady with mature, oily skin.
The most noticeable thing was the wrinkles that formed on her forehead with
every, even the slightest, change of facial expression. She was wearing a very
loose white collarless shirt, gray tracksuits and funny white flip-flops.
Her appearance intrigued me because I expected a more formal outfit for a

domestic help in such an elegant home. I was glad that it was different, because
Eugenie had a radiance of ordinaryness that made me feel that we had
something in common right from the moment we entered. I didn't need any
more formulas, rules or luxuries. I just wanted some normality, and Eugenie
looked like someone who would be friends with my grandmother.
The woman quickly started showering me with compliments, admiring my

long hair and, as she put it, my cute face. She immediately threw the cloth
aside, swearing that she was ready to prepare whatever my heart desired for
breakfast. I didn't really feel like eating anything, but in the end I timidly agreed
to the suggestion of American pancakes.
Eugenie moved around the kitchen with extraordinary skill, and I began to
suspect that she knew it better than any of the boys living there. I sat at the
table, watching her actions and offering my help several times, because I wasn't
used to watching idly while someone
I'm worried, but Eugenie told me to sit and not worry about anything. At the
same time, she tried to engage me in conversation, first asking about my
favorite dishes and what I didn't like, and then talking about my life and
customs in England. She also proudly mentioned that her daughter was
going on an exchange student to Newcastle next semester. I've never been
to Newcastle, so it's hard for me to make sense of it, but I smiled at the
mention of a city in my home country.
– Apparently they have a difficult accent there – said Eugenie, who

herself spoke good English, although audibly enhanced by the strong
exposure of the letter "r", which revealed her foreign origins. – But I tell her
that it's very good, because she should learn. You can never learn too
much. – The woman flipped the pancakes almost automatically, smiling at
her own thoughts. – My daughter is a smart girl, you know, and she sounds
like a real American.
I smiled slightly.
– I'm sure he'll be fine.
– Of course he will. – Eugenie waved her hand and then leaned towards
me. – I keep telling her that she has been given an opportunity that should
not be wasted. Because when I was young, studies were out of my reach.
No one offered to cover my tuition fees, she sighed. – How lucky we are
that Mr. Vincent has been so good to us. At first I thought he was very
different from his father, Mr. Camden, because he is always so serious and
focused, that's the impression he gives. But as it turns out, his heart is just
as golden and nothing will change my mind.
The sound of my father's name made my insides tighten. It was the first
time someone spoke about him so freely in front of me. Even my mother
changed the subject whenever I asked her about it. It simply hadn't occurred
to Eugenie that mentioning him in my presence was quite inappropriate,
and I did my best not to show that I cared. My acting, although poor,
probably did not disappoint, because the woman continued her monologue,
and instead of nodding to her as before, I drifted off in thought.
Camden Monet, the man who once lived here, slept in one of the many
bedrooms, ate in this kitchen, and Eugenie may have made him coffee and
set a mug in front of him on the table where I now had my elbows. He had
a heart of gold - that's what she said about him. As much as I didn't want
to bother with him, I couldn't ignore the questions that kept coming to her.
What he was like, what he looked like and, above all, why he didn't want
to meet me.
I had it in my mind that Eugenie might be a valuable source of
information about him, especially since she was fond of talking, even if it
was a bit thoughtless. But I didn't want to ask her any questions about him
out of sheer caution. One of the brothers would have heard or found out
about it. My curiosity had to wait.
Soon, on the counter in front of me was a plate of plump and ruddy,
stacked pancakes, drizzled with maple syrup and sprinkled with forest
fruits. I've been dreaming about these ever since I saw them in an American
fairy tale a few years ago, and my grandmother, even though she was a
great cook, always came out too flat. Eugenie wished me bon appetit and
disappeared to take care of the laundry, and I smiled goodbye, happy that
there would be at least one woman hanging around in this big house full of men.
The portion was too big for me, so I spent almost an hour on it. When I
finished eating, I washed the dishes, forgetting about the dishwasher, and
then stood in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. I had
absolutely nothing to do and I felt it painfully in this unfamiliar environment.
By complete accident, my eyes fell on the large kitchen window, through
which the sun's rays were streaming in, illuminating the entire bright room.
The weather seemed much nicer than yesterday and I immediately thought
that today's sun might herald hope for something good in my gray reality.
Encouraged, I put a thick sweatshirt over my shoulders and went outside
through the main door.
When Will picked me up from the airport yesterday, he left the car in the
driveway, where another car was now parked, suspiciously ordinary
compared to the luxury Jeep. I guessed it belonged to Eugenie only
because of the beetroot-colored varnish. Just do not
I couldn't imagine any of my brothers driving one

cars.
There was a road leading off the driveway that disappeared into the trees,
and I knew there was a gate cutting through it somewhere beyond.
I decided not to go that way so that no one would think I was looking around,
contemplating escape. Instead, I swerved onto the perfectly manicured green
lawn, deciding to walk around the grand mansion.
From time to time it was windy and I had to wrap my sweatshirt tighter around
me, but apart from that my walk was not only pleasant, because the fresh air
cleared my head and allowed me to breathe, but also necessary, as I definitely
felt overfed after a large breakfast and exercise was good for me. The garden
surrounding the residence was huge, but unfortunately after some time it seemed
boring to me. For my taste, flowers were needed here, and there was definitely
plenty of space for them.
I passed the large kitchen window and sneaked a peek inside, only to find
that the room remained empty, just as I had left it. Then I continued walking,
past other large windows, until I finally reached a terrace lined with dark boards,
on which there was a charming lounge set with cushions already cleaned for
winter.
There was also an armchair for two people hanging here, on which I even shyly squatted
for a moment. I've always wanted to have one.
As I realized, the terrace was accessed through sliding doors from the living
room. Soon I continued my walk and soon discovered that right next to it there
was another terrace, this time with loungers and a built-in jacuzzi bathtub, and a
quite large swimming pool, which - as Will said - had already been drained.
I walked along its banks and even stood on the steps leading down, imagining
what the reservoir looked like when it was full. How the water surface shimmers
in the sun in summer. I live in a house with a swimming pool, I thought to myself,
shaking my head in disbelief for the hundredth time. I never expected to
experience this level of wealth.
Here, the wall of the house on the ground floor consisted only of glass,
which at this time of day reflected the trees and sky. On the first floor there
was a balcony that formed a small roof. I crept under it, curiously approaching
the open terrace door, which I noticed only after a while.
I poked my head inside and discovered that I had just ended up in the sports
part of the house, which is the area I had planned to avoid.
It was a large and bright room with various types of exercise equipment.
The only gym I ever set foot in was the one at my old school, where the
equipment was several years old and there was a suffocating smell of rubber
in the air. My brothers' gym, full of shiny new machines, was the complete
opposite. There was a treadmill, weight-lifting benches, a few behemoths that
I didn't even know what they could be used for, pull-up hoops, mats and
mattresses, punching bags and fancy speakers, which usually played music
to make the boys' training more enjoyable... One The walls were completely
lined with mirrors, and it was when my eyes fell on it that I realized I wasn't
alone here.
– Are you still snooping? asked Dylan, who seemed to be watching me

has been going on for a long time.
He was standing in the corner, where water bottles were arranged in a

pyramid. He held one of them in his hand, open and half empty. His damp
hair was pulled back, revealing his forehead, which was glistening with
sweat, as were his bulging arms. His torso was covered in a loose boxer shirt
that hung over his muscles like a bag. He had red headphones hanging
around his neck, and I thought music was playing softly in them.
I was immediately stressed by the presence of this brother I didn't like

much. I knew from the very beginning to avoid the gym, and now I've made it
because of my ubiquity.
“I'm walking,” I replied, trying to stay calm.
– Is that what you call looking into random rooms?
His malicious smile only confirmed my belief that the boy was trying to
provoke me. I tightened my hand on the barely visible door handle of the
terrace passage and muttered:
– Will told me to make myself at home, so I'm just looking around. If

you want to be alone, just say so and I'll move on.
Dylan kept his eyes on me as he lifted the bottle to his mouth and
downed the contents in two seconds, then crushed it with one hand and
tossed it aside, wiped his mouth, and shrugged.
- So go.
Ignoring the slight pang of sadness he gave my sensitive self with his
indifference, I retreated back to the garden. I wrapped my arms around
myself tighter and walked a little further along the house, for some reason
no longer interested in what I was passing. I was afraid to look into the
building's windows because I didn't want to be wrongly accused of
voyeurism again. The size of the Monet Residence terrified me, and the
house itself did not arouse warm feelings either. Especially when I reached
the next climb. This one was much smaller, and the entrance door was
solid. I didn't know the building well enough to even try to guess which
part of it they led to, so I just passed them.
Then I walked along a huge annex that had no windows and served as a
garage. Then I finally finished the walk because I found myself at the front
of the house again. At this point in my trip, I already had a headache from
being over-oxygenated by the crisp autumn air.
I entered back into that house that reminded me of a dangerous jungle.
The only thing missing was the lush green colors and the suffocating smell
of the soil, but otherwise everything was fine. There were a lot of secrets
hidden under the veil of relative peace, and I felt it with all my senses.
Every step I took on the mansion's marble floors was silent. When I had
only socks on my feet, it was difficult for me to change it, even though I
really wanted to disturb this disturbing silence and stop giving the
impression of being a detective with seven pains.
Testing different steps, I went to the bedroom to hang up the warm
sweatshirt that I no longer needed. I almost fell over on the stairs as I
stared at the strange painting in the hall again, but I quickly regained my
balance, and no nasty giggling reached my ears, so I guess there were no
witnesses.
I came across someone only when I decided to look out of my room again, this time
to make myself a cup of tea. The headache slowly went away, and I even got an
autumn cold, and that's when I decided to make another trip to the kitchen.
– Are you cold?
I was leaning over a newly discovered drawer full of herbs and teas and the sound
of that voice, even though it sounded nice, made me jump. Will stood in the kitchen
entrance, smiling at me.
At first I was afraid that he was my oldest brother, all because of his formal clothes,
which I had never seen Will in before. He wore a shirt that perfectly highlighted the
deep blue of his eyes and dark suit pants. If I had to describe what a successful person
looks like, instead of using my tongue, I would simply point to him.
- A bit. I went for a walk.

“I know,” he replied, and when I looked at him in surprise, he added with the greatest
ease: “I saw you through the window.”
I mentally begged myself not to let my expression show the confusion I felt in my
soul. I wanted so badly for this unpleasant feeling to finally stop tormenting me so
constantly.
- Do you want tea? – I asked to change the subject and waved the bag I had chosen.
- No thanks. I have to go out. - He glanced at his wrist, which had a watch on it,
probably different than yesterday, but certainly just as elegant. – I should be back in a
few hours. We all have a reservation at the restaurant for the evening. Our favorite.
- Me too?
The question slipped out of my mind before I could even think about it, and Will looked at me like
I had jumped out of a Christmas tree.
– You first. It's because of you that we're leaving. Let's say
that it will be such a small integration.
– Oh. Sounds great, I lied.
Will must have sensed the artificiality of my reaction, but he didn't comment, just
gave me an understanding look. I liked
that he didn't unnecessarily dwell on my behavior, giving me time to

come to terms with reality.
– If something happens, you're not alone. Vince and Dylan are home.
You can always call me too. And Eugenie is around here somewhere.
Have you met Eugenie yet?
– She made me a delicious breakfast.
“He's a great cook,” Will agreed, and then he must have gotten some
text, because he glanced at the screen of his cell phone in his hand and
said, “Okay, Hailie, I really have to go now.”
I'll see you later, he said, and did something I didn't expect at all. Still
half focused on his phone, he approached me, put his arm around me
briefly and kissed the top of my head. - Have a nice day!
Then he disappeared before I could even answer him with a stupid
"I'm back." Instead, I spent the next minute regaining control of my stiff
limbs, which had frozen in surprise at this act of tenderness. Will,
although the nicest of all the people I had recently met, was still a
stranger to me, from whom I would never have expected such direct
gestures. I wondered for a moment what I should think about it, and
then I decided that I actually liked this treatment a little. I wasn't entirely
sure yet, but for a moment it felt like Will had put a small Band-Aid on
my broken bone
heart.
I continued to think about it as I waited for the water to boil, with a

large mug in my hand. I wondered how it was possible that Dylan and
Will, for example, could be such opposites, despite being so closely
related.
With the orange-mint aroma accompanying me, I first walked towards
the table, but halfway there I changed my mind and headed up the stairs
to the bedroom, and then I remembered the library and took a new
direction again.
I liked how almost every wall here was lined with tall, dark brown
shelves full of books. This created a unique, magical atmosphere in the
room.
With curiosity, I took a closer look at the piano, which, although simple, looked elegant.
I wanted to open them and look at his keyboard, but I was afraid that I would disturb them
just by touching them. Instead, I was interested in a simple photo frame that stood alone
on it. I haven't come across any photographs in the Monet Residence so far, so this one
immediately caught my attention. It didn't show any of the boys, just two women. They
were both blonde. One of them smiled broadly and charmingly, while the other seemed
more reserved, but also rather content. I reached out to grab the frame and take a closer
look at the photo, but it was heavier than I expected and I almost dropped it. I immediately
took my hand away from her and ran scared to the other end of the room, scolding myself
in my thoughts. It will be better for me if I focus on books. They are harder to destroy.
Many of the volumes here were business guides, some very old and probably with
outdated wisdom. I also found a few psychological ones, some (but not much) motivational
ones, something about running, something about healthy cooking, and even a few erotic
ones, which I completely missed. Finally, I came across fiction novels for people in my age
group and I was stuck on this shelf for ages.
I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that there was a lot of fantasy here, and at first glance
it was good. I already knew, liked and appreciated some of these books.
Especially when I was feeling bad, when I had a bad day, when someone made me
feel bad or when I did something embarrassing, the memory of which my brain tortured me
for hours, I liked to immerse myself in an interesting book that allowed me to enter a
different world, making me completely forget about it. about reality. For such occasions, I
usually chose promising fantasy novels.
I finally found a position that I literally fell in love with at first sight. The hard, shiny cover
depicted a black dragon with green eyes, the ribbon inside the volume resembled a thin,
blood-red reptile tongue, and the description on the back had me hooked after the first
sentence. I was only going to read the first chapter, but
The novel absorbed me completely and I swallowed every word as if enchanted,

curled into a ball in the chair that Vincent had previously occupied.
However, I would be lying if I said that I didn't have problems with concentration
at the very beginning. It was the first time since my mother's death that I had been
able to indulge in this old pleasure, and it felt like it had been ages since I had
read a book. And only less than a week has passed since the tragic events that
turned my life upside down. So before I immersed myself in the new world, I had
to deal with remorse and sadness. My mother always liked to hear me talk about
books that I particularly liked.
It was killing me to know that I would never tell her about this.
Only a truly excellent story could cope with the depression that gripped me. I
spent the entire afternoon looking at my new find, just changing positions,
completely absorbed in what I was reading.
It was only after several good hours that my peace was disturbed.
I was lying across the chair with my back arched, holding a book just above my
face, when the door to the library opened and one of the twins stood there. I was
relieved to recognize that it was Shane, the nicer one.
“Here it is,” he said over his shoulder to someone, then turned back to me and
gestured behind him. – Hey, we're slowly getting ready to leave.
I couldn't hide my heavy sigh very well. Reluctantly, I placed the book on the
table, using the blood-red ribbon that came with this beautiful edition as a
bookmark.
I took the empty cup to the kitchen, where I met Will and Tony, who stopped
talking when they saw me. Will looked at me kindly and repeated what Shane had
already told me, while Tony looked away, as if he deliberately didn't want to look
my way.
I half-heartedly climbed the stairs to my bedroom, wishing with all my heart
that I could just collapse on the bed and fall asleep. Or continue reading. I didn't
feel like going out, and I certainly didn't
with a whole set of his brothers, more than half of whom had a questionable
attitude towards me.
I pulled out the most elegant dress I ever owned from the closet. It was
simple, navy blue, with three-quarter sleeves and a slightly flared skirt that
reached just above my knee. Nothing special, so I wasn't worried about
looking too dressed up. On the contrary - when I stood next to the separated
boys, I felt that I was far behind them.
I tried to convince myself that it was just my insecurities, but it was hard to
argue with the dark voice in my head that whispered: You're not up to par,
Hailie Monet. You look like an orphan. Which you are anyway.
However, no one commented on my appearance. The brothers spread out
around the garage, agreeing who would ride with whom and in which car. For
a moment they all looked identical to me and I had to squint to tell them apart.
They were dressed in dark suits and light shirts, some had a tie and others
did not. Each of them had well-groomed hair and moved with the ease typical
of people familiar with luxury. I couldn't believe I was going out with a group
of men who looked like that.
But it wasn't the sight of them that made me speechless. I experienced
quite a shock when I saw the garage into which, following in the footsteps of
my brothers, I entered for the first time. Its cavernous interior was even more
impressive than the view from the outside. For a moment I had the feeling that
the door was a portal that took us to an exclusive car showroom. The cars
stood in a neat row and it was obvious that their owners took special care of
order. The gray shiny floors were covered with scratches and tire marks,
which - surprisingly - did not disfigure the floor at all, but on the contrary -
they added a certain charm to it and the entire garage. The walls were also
gray, but in a slightly different shade, and they were crossed by long, narrow
strips running here and there, stretching to the ceiling and acting as a kind of
modern LED lighting.
It was not a typical garage of an average family - cluttered with everything
and nothing, full of cardboard boxes and equipment that had not been used
for years. Here, the entire – large – area is reserved exclusively for cars. And
if someone already has such a garage, it is only because they can afford to
keep top-shelf vehicles in it - and that was the case here.
There were cars here that I had previously only seen as toys, in children's cartoons, or
perhaps in some movies. About three of them were of the strange, even cosmic type -
bright, flattened, sporty, which probably accelerated to hundreds of kilometers per hour in
seconds. The other two were sleeker and sleeker - one silver and the other black, which
Vincent approached from the driver's side. There was also a huge, high-slung jeep in which
Will picked me up at the airport, and a more ordinary and less conspicuous white car.
At that point, my lack of automotive knowledge really embarrassed me. I couldn't name
a single brand! I could only sort them in my head based on color, like a stereotypical
woman in a sexist joke.
The Monet brothers packed into their cars quite efficiently (my jaw dropped because for
the first time I had the opportunity to see a vehicle with doors that, instead of swinging
open in a traditional way, simply rose high) and after a while the two cars left property. One,
the black and slender one, was driven by my legal guardian, and Will sat next to him. I
ended up in the back, together with - unfortunately - Tony, who didn't even look at me
during the entire ride.
The second car was driven by Shane. He chose one of the sporty ones, a beautiful dark
blue color with those unusual doors, and he and Dylan showed off the roar of the engine
as they overtook us on the road.
In the reflection of the side mirror, I saw Vincent roll his eyes at this and Will shake his
head. Their reactions reminded me of parents frustrated by their children's antics, and I
must admit that the thought made me laugh a little.
I remember my first trip to the city with my new family vaguely. Maybe I was too stressed
and my brain considered the memory too traumatic, one I wanted to forget. Or maybe it
simply did not accommodate such a large amount of splendor, which was already pouring
out upon arrival at the main doors of the restaurant.
I know for sure that Vince handed over the keys to a parking attendant
dressed in a tailcoat, someone bowed to me, someone else asked Will if the
table we had chosen was right for us, and in the entrance we passed a young
couple in love, literally covered in gold, apparently slightly drunk on alcohol. .
I felt lost, looking at the red carpets, the candlesticks on the walls, the shiny
floors again and the dome-shaped ceiling with a Renaissance-style fresco
painted on it. Pictures of plump angels in thick gold frames hung here, and an
elegant gentleman was playing a calm melody on the violin.
I started in surprise when someone put a hand on my back, but when I saw
it was Will, I relaxed. I wasn't going to disregard his support at this point because
I didn't even know where to look.
– Are you okay, Hailie? – he assured in a whisper as we took our places at
the intimate round table.
I nodded, perhaps a little too vigorously, giving my brother a faint smile that
certainly betrayed my nervousness.
It deepened as Vince sat down in the chair on my other side.
I wondered if I would be able to swallow anything being so close to him.
I also felt the pressure of this elegant surroundings influencing my every

move, making them unnaturally stiff, something I couldn't say about the manner
of my brothers. They were completely at ease, leaning back in comfortable,
carved chairs, taking over menus from the waiter and joking about something
every now and then. What was a big event for me was an everyday occurrence
for them, and I had the impression that this exit only deepened the gap between
us instead of reducing it.
It was then that I saw them as real siblings for the first time.
One that you have known since birth and that has this special bond. They
laughed and chatted as they sat down at the table, as they placed their orders,
and as they waited for their food. I couldn't shake the feeling that I didn't fit in with them.
Some of the same blood flowed in our veins, but they were one and I was a
stranger. I felt sad when I realized this.
– How's your lasagna, Hailie? – Will asked me when everyone was ready
We got our orders and started the feast.
“Delicious,” I replied with a shy smile.

I really liked it, but most of the time I just picked at it with my fork because I didn't
like eating when I felt uncomfortable. Everything about this trip embarrassed me -
the circumstances, the place and the company.
I noticed that those of my brothers who weren't drivers today ordered themselves
a beer. Even the underage ones, which surprised me quite a bit, but no one seemed
to make an issue of it here, which I mused on for a moment as I sipped my Coke.
The atmosphere was conducive to more and more fun. A game in which I didn't
really participate, until the conversation stopped for a moment, and then Shane
remembered that it was our team-building evening and started talking to me.
– Hailie, why aren't you talking?

Of course, everyone's eyes turned towards me, which traditionally stressed me
out, so I smiled my typical polite, but in the long run already boring, smile and looked
at my plate, which still had half a portion of lasagna on it.
- I will... eat.
“If she didn't eat, she didn't say anything,” Dylan muttered.
“Because you're embarrassing her, you idiots,” Will said, glaring at his brothers.
- I? "I'm not doing anything," Shane protested, then looked at

me, pointing to his chest with his hands. – Am I embarrassing you?
I shook my head, internally extremely unhappy that they were pursuing this topic.
“She's still flustered,” Dylan continued.
– Wouldn't you be?
- NO.
– But hey, imagine you are a little girl…

– Fuck off.
– No, but wait, seriously. Imagine that you are a little girl and suddenly you find
out that you have five older brothers. Shane watched
pointedly at Dylan. – Well, I would go crazy.

“I'm not a little girl,” I interjected. I was going to throw these words into
the ether, but they rang out all too clearly because everyone's voices had
quieted down.
“You are,” Shane and Dylan replied at the same time.
I raised my eyebrows.
– I'm almost fifteen.

“That's still fourteen,” Vincent pointed out, putting the glass of water back
on the table. He glanced at me with slightly raised eyebrows, and his
interjection made the others laugh.
– But I'm not a child.
“You are,” they denied in unison, almost all of them this time. Even Tony.
I looked around in disbelief at the faces of my new family surrounding me. Not all of
them seemed willing to make eye contact with me, but almost all of them had stupid,
mocking smiles on their lips.
“It's... not fair,” I muttered, and then I realized

I actually sounded a bit like a child when I added, "It's five against one."
“Get used to it,” Dylan muttered, then popped an olive into his mouth
from the salad that had been served to him earlier as an appetizer.
“Not fair,” I repeated more emphatically.
- That's life.
– Then it sucks.
At that point I really wasn't a fan of life, as depressing as it sounds.
Especially our own, which has recently undergone so many tragic changes.
This summary came to me automatically, so I didn't think anyone would
answer anything at all, but my brothers' reactions surprised me.
Dylan wagged his finger at me and said, "Nu, nu, nu," Shane and Will grimaced
looked disapproving and Tony snorted.
“Don't talk so dirty,” Vincent admonished me, frowning.
For a moment I thought they were joking, and then I blinked when I realized
they were serious.
– Was it ugly?
I wanted to say a lot of things, like that there are worse words than "ass" or
that I've heard guys swear more than once and it didn't offend anyone, but the
force of my oldest brother's gaze stopped me and made me look down. . You don't
argue with Vincent and I slowly learned that.
Finally, we ordered dessert, which was another new thing for me.
My mother and I rarely went to restaurants because my grandmother always
cooked at home, and when we did, we stuck to the main dishes. Money was
apparently not an issue for my well-to-do brothers, so I ordered myself a bowl of
chocolate ice cream. The boys ate and drank too, a lot and quickly, much faster
than me, so at the end they waited for me to finish my dessert, which Shane ended
up finishing for me anyway, surprising me by the fact that he wasn't at all
embarrassed to eat after me.
Ultimately, I had to admit that it was nice and fun. I even laughed out loud a
few times, but mostly I just listened to the discussions between the guys, rarely
adding my own two cents. At one point, Dylan and the twins were howling with
laughter, and even though I didn't understand all their jokes, their hilarity rubbed
off on me to a large extent. The Monet brothers simply spread a positive aura
around them today, and I was honored to be part of it as well.
Even if I didn't feel like I was part of that family.

Juvenile delinquent
It was really hard for me to objectively assess how much I had integrated
with his new brothers during our outing. However, what we achieved was certainly
just a drop in the ocean of the work ahead of us on the relationship that, in my
opinion, we should have as siblings.
Sometimes I thought that if I were more cheerful and sociable, maybe it would
be easier for me to break the ice with them and let them like me. Meanwhile, I
couldn't even speak to them normally, let alone make a joke, constantly hampered
by the thought of a possible blunder I might make. Every interaction with boys made
me anxious and stressed because I was such a stupid character.
However, I defended myself by saying that I was going through a period of

mourning, and I was not going to make excuses for the fact that my entertainment
was limited to a minimum.
I felt best when I was locked in my safe shell. Curled up like a shrimp, I sat in an
armchair almost the entire next day, absorbing the story about the fate of the
characters of the book I started reading yesterday. Nobody bothered me. Vincent
actually worked almost non-stop, anyway
Will was not much less busy. The twins and Dylan went to school in the morning
and only returned in the afternoon.
Although I was a person who liked to learn, this temporary break from school did not
bother me at all. On the contrary, I was glad that Vincent had decided to send me to her
only from next week. Everything was happening so fast in my life now that I really needed
this time to adapt.
Besides, it was the best therapy for me - peace and quiet, with a book, with short breaks
to make a cup of tea and go to the toilet. No wonder that as soon as I read the last sentence
of the first volume, I immediately felt sadness and emptiness. It didn't take long for me to
start looking for the next part, eager to be transported back to this magical world.
I spent an hour and a half looking through the books on the numerous shelves here.
I even googled the cover of the second part to make it easier to find it, but it didn't help. It
was lost, but I was sure it must have been here somewhere, because I found further parts
from the same series.
Soon, tired of searching, I went to the kitchen to traditionally take my tea cup to the
dishwasher. There I met the nicest of my brothers, Will, who was peeling fruit for his
nutritional smoothie. I was happy to see him. I wasn't afraid to ask him for help.
“Hmm,” he murmured, squinting at my phone screen as I showed him the photo. – Ask
Tony, I think it's his book.
I wasn't too thrilled that it was Tony I had to turn to. I even considered reading something
else, but boy was I really hooked. I entered that world and wasn't ready to leave it yet. So
if my reading needs required sacrifices, so be it.
By the time I stood outside Tony's bedroom door, my confidence and resolve had
already left me. My right hand was balled into a fist, ready to knock, but I raised it slowly.
Until the very end, I was wondering whether it was worth interacting with the meaner of the
twins just to find out where a book was.
But finally I pulled myself together, exhaled, and with a sudden burst of courage,
I pounded on the door marked with the silver letter "T." Holding my breath, I waited
for it to open, and after a few long seconds passed, I knocked again. I was sure I
heard my brothers coming home from school earlier, and I didn't think they had time
to go anywhere. When I began to doubt that Tony was home, I knocked one last
time, ready to leave, and then I heard a lazy murmur coming from inside:
– Co?
I licked my lips.
– Uh, hi… Hi, Tony. It's me, Hailie, I said to the door, my voice shaking like broken
strings. – Will you open it? I have a question.
The sigh I heard next was so loud that I didn't even try to convince myself that I
had misheard.
- What do you want?
His voice sounded dry and without an ounce of empathy or willingness to help in
any way, which demotivated me to ask him for anything, but it was too late, so, taking
a heavy breath myself, I continued.
– Ask.
Tony got bored with this form of conversation, because after a while he said
with grace in his voice: - Come in.
I was more tempted to kick the door and leave, but I decided to ignore the boy's
moods and focus on my goal.
The first thing I noticed when I entered the room was its general neatness. The
bedroom was bright, like mine, but much more personalized since its occupant had
lived here for, well, probably his entire life. I shivered as the cold air immediately hit
me. Tony was ventilating intensely here - the window overlooking the balcony was
open almost wide, and a light gray curtain was blowing in the wind.
Just like in my case, the room was not cluttered with unnecessary furniture and
there were doors to the dressing room and bathroom. One of the walls caught my
attention the most - the one next to which there was a desk with a fancy colorful armchair
bright purple, exactly like professional gamers can boast. The wall was huge
and almost entirely covered with sketches. Sheets of various weights and sizes
hung in artistic disarray, depicting impressive drawings, mainly of various
oddities and fantastic creatures.
There was also a large painting with a naked, extremely curvy woman from
which I immediately looked away.
“Talk,” Tony growled, and then I found him sprawled on the large bed in one
of the corners of the room. He was lying on his back, his head in his hands, his
eyes closed. He was still in his uniform, so he was obviously relaxing after a
long day at school. I stood there staring at him for a moment, and then he
added, "Quick."
– I'm looking for one book. Will said you might know where he is.
– What book is this? – he groaned, as if he couldn't believe that I was
bothering him with such stupidity, but when I told him the title, he opened his
eyes and looked at me. He studied my face for a moment and then nodded
towards one of the cabinets. – Look there. At the top.
I approached the furniture as per his instructions and opened the top door.
There was less order there, but I wasn't interested in that, because I immediately
noticed the characteristic cover of the volume I was looking for and stood on
my tiptoes to reach for it.
I wouldn't be myself if I didn't make trouble. There was something on the book,
something I didn't notice because it was too high up. The thing fell to the floor with a thud,
and I, terrified, let out a hollow scream and instinctively hugged the thick and heavy volume
to my chest, taking a step back.
I heard Tony's irritated smack in the background and he jumped out of bed
in an instant. I understood why he reacted so violently when I looked at the
object that had caused such a fuss because of my fault.
As soon as I recognized him, my hair stood on end and my fingers wrapped
tighter around the hard cover of the book I was holding.
It was a gun.
A gun fell out of the closet onto the floor, black and small, similar to those
that I saw in action movies.
"Stand aside," Tony hissed, pushing past him to pick up his property from the
ground.
I obeyed his orders as he furiously threw the gun back into the cabinet and
then slammed the door much too loudly. I grimaced, and my eyes, wide with fear,
met Tony's gaze, which now took on a sinister edge.
I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what, so I just parted my lips
unconsciously, waiting for him to move. I didn't have enough control over my body
to act brave and not back away again when he moved, as if to come closer to me.
Tony must have noticed my fear because he took a breath, although he was
still pumped up.
– It's not mine, okay? Belongs to a friend. He has a shooting range and we go there
sometimes.
I stared at him, nodding eagerly. I dreamed that he was telling the truth,
although I would gladly swallow anything now - even the most trivial lie.
– Don't panic – he added.

I stopped nodding.
Tony looked irritated just by having to explain himself to me, and my reaction
to what I saw didn't help; I'm sure he thought I was exaggerating. But I couldn't do
anything about it. It terrified me and I could only stand there, gripping the book
even tighter and praying that my heart wouldn't jump out of my chest.
He looked at me for a moment with his jaw clenched, then, still nervous, he
brushed his hair from his forehead with his tattooed hand and growled: - Get lost.
“Okay,” I croaked and took a few overcautious steps back before turning on my
heel to run as fast as I could into the hallway.
– Hailie.
With one foot already on the threshold, I turned my head.
– Don't tell anyone you saw him.
Swallowing, I nodded and was finally able to get out of there.
As the door to Tony's room closed, I let out a loud breath. With my brow
furrowed and my eyebrows raised, I covered my mouth with my hand while my
other hand still pressed the book to my rapidly rising chest.
I just saw a gun in my brother's room

eighteen-year-old brother.
I rubbed my forehead, remembering I was in the hall, and looked around to
make sure I was the only one there.
I was afraid that I would have to explain to someone about my temporary panic
attack. Fortunately, it was empty, so I went straight to my bedroom to calm
down.
I put the book on the bed, uninterested in reading at that moment. Instead,
I wrapped my arms around myself and started pacing around the room, biting
my lip hard.
You're exaggerating, I said to myself, you're exaggerating a lot. This is
America. You've heard that people here have much easier access to weapons.
It's probably normal and you're making a big deal.
Big deal?! Is it really "normal" to have a gun in a high school student's bedroom?
I do not think so. And why would Tony tell me to keep quiet about it if it was so
normal?
Maybe he reacted like that because you panicked. He saw that you were worried
and he would know that the rest of the brothers would blame him for scaring you
unnecessarily.
I sighed. There's no denying it, I was indeed fearful.
It was my nature that I did not like aggression and violence. In fact, I felt
uncomfortable even when someone looked at me askance, which happened
frequently in this house. The fact that surly Tony kept a gun in his room further
undermined my already tenuous sense of security.
Over time, as I sighed a bit, I calmed down enough to stop thinking about it so intensely.
Finally, I threw myself on the bed with a book. I had difficulty starting reading again and it
took me about half an hour to get through the first page. Meanwhile, I pulled out my phone
to search the internet for information about Pennsylvania's firearms laws. I didn't understand
much of what I read because I was in too much of a hurry to get information, which resulted
in a rather chaotic review of several articles at once.
Indeed, the law in the United States differed significantly from that in Great Britain and
Europe in general, but one thing remained constant - a minor could not legally possess a
pistol.
And by my calculations, Tony wouldn't turn eighteen until next year.
I only dared to leave the bedroom again in the evening, when, according to Vincent's
instructions, I had to go down for dinner. I quickly darted past the door of the twin that
terrified me, as if I was afraid it would suddenly open and his room would drag me inside.
The Monet residence was most frightening late in the evening, when she seemed to
be fast asleep, while dark secrets were playing more boldly in its corners. It's true that I've
read a lot of books about ghosts and I could safely say that this particular house didn't
seem haunted. It wasn't old, nothing creaked ominously here, no drafts blew through the
corridors, and doors and windows didn't bang on their own.
The type of dark energy that existed here was definitely different - less supernatural, and
yet terrifying.
I passed Eugenie in the main hall. Dressed in a trench coat and with a worn red
handbag hanging over the crook of her elbow, she was already leaving the house. Quickly
wishing me good night, she promised to meet me for breakfast. Out of habit, I expected
that since she had finished work, I would be alone in the kitchen.
And here you go – a surprise. Vincent sat straight at the table.

I froze, pausing for a moment on the threshold, then cleared my throat quietly to alert him
to my presence. He was fully focused on clicking something on the laptop and didn't even
look at me. With the sandwich Eugenie had prepared earlier, I sat down across from him,
stealing a glance first
at the silver, elegant back of his almost paper-thin computer, and then at the
window, behind which at this time there was deep blackness.
In the apartment where I grew up, we always closed the windows at night so
that no nosy neighbor across the street would look into our house, but here no
one did, which deepened my anxiety and the feeling of being under surveillance.
“Hailie,” Vincent said suddenly in his traditionally cold voice

voice, breaking me out of my reverie.
I looked at him, tearing my eyes away from the manor devoured by darkness.
He glanced at me over his laptop. His face was a bit pale, and slight dark circles
were beginning to form under his eyes, proving that he was probably not a robot
after all and felt tired sometimes.
- Yes? – I asked, swallowing the piece of bread I was chewing.
– I asked if everything was okay.
– Oh. Yes. Yes Yes. Everything's fine, I thought, nodding my head and thinking to myself
that if I don't stop doing this so abruptly every time someone says something to me here, she'll
finally stop talking to me.
“Good,” Vincent sighed and rubbed his eyelids with an open hand. – I assume
you received the wi-fi password?
– Will showed me everything.
– Mhm. Then you probably know that the websites you browse
do they appear in the search engine history?
He surprised me with this question, so I was silent for a moment before
answering him.
“Y-yes… I know that,” I muttered carefully, just then realizing what he was
drinking for. My appetite for food instantly disappeared.
“Today, my search suggestions came up with questions about gun rights in

Pennsylvania,” Vincent said. – I won't say, I was interested in which of the
household members was looking for information on this subject. And it looks like,
dear Hailie, it's you.
As I watched my oldest brother's intense gaze, I felt myself getting sick. Stupid,
it's been known for a long time that there is such a thing as search history, I mentally
scolded myself, even though it was too late for any such comments. I just didn't think
about it because I never had to worry about hiding things like that. My mother had
no detective skills, not to mention my grandmother who couldn't even turn on a
computer.
“It… it could have been me,” I admitted evasively, nervously picking at the cuticles
under the table.
Vincent raised his eyebrows.
– Could you?
– It was me.
– What made you search for such information?
“Uh… I…” I hesitated. Tony clearly didn't want me to
she told anyone about what I saw. – I was curious.
– I understand that you were curious, but I'm asking what aroused your curiosity.
– Well, actually, nothing specific. I know it's different here, you know, than in
England, I muttered, internally angry at my voice, which was hoarse. – A lot of things
are different. I check various things to clear my doubts when something comes to my
mind...
– And the first thing you came up with was the right to own a gun?
– No…
-Don't lie, Hailie. I said I didn't like it.

I found myself running my hand across my neck and nervously biting the inside
of my cheek with my teeth. It didn't take a lie detector to know I wasn't telling the truth.
I lowered my hands.
“I'm sorry, I…I'm not lying, it's just…” I sighed and cleared my throat, “I saw a gun
in Tony's room.”
There was a hint of understanding on Vincent's face, as if he had just received it

the missing piece to your puzzle.
– He didn't want me to talk about it. And in England you need a gun license and
be of legal age to keep it in your own home.
And this probably applies only to the hunting one. That's why I looked on the Internet
to see what it's like here, I explained.
– When and where exactly did you see him?
– This afternoon, when I went to Tony's to get a book. It fell out of the cabinet.
- What did he tell you?

– That... it's not his. That he is familiar. That they sometimes go to the shooting range.
Vince nodded.
“I told him not to take her,” he said. – That's why he didn't want you to mention it
to anyone, but it's good that you finally told me the truth. If it comes to me asking you
something, please be honest. I will always get to the real version, with or without
your cooperation.
“Okay,” I muttered quietly. – I'm sorry, I didn't know what to do.
“It's okay, Hailie,” he reassured me stiffly and added, “This time.”

We both fell silent. Completely devoid of appetite, I reached for the remains of
my sandwich and took the last bite I had lost the pleasure of eating. I felt heavy, as if
I had swallowed cement that was now hardening in my insides. I turned in Tony, who
didn't like me anyway.
Now he was definitely going to hate me completely, and I was very afraid of that, so
for a moment I was hoping that Vincent wouldn't bring it up with him, but unfortunately
I knew that was unlikely.
When I finally evacuated to my bedroom, I stood in the middle and grabbed my

hair, right at the roots, letting out a silent, frustrated scream.
How am I supposed to function in this house? Every conversation with Vincent

makes me come closer to having a heart attack. Tony is some shit
I'm a juvenile delinquent, and Dylan treats me like a pushover. In addition, I have to be
careful what terms I search for on the Internet.
I sighed, regretting that I had lost the desire to even read. Instead, I wrapped myself
in my mother's old, oversized sweater, which still smelled a bit like her, and went out to
the balcony to take a break from the heavy atmosphere in the house. There wasn't
much space here, probably not even enough for a chair and a table, but just enough for
a teenager to squat on the concrete ground and huddle against the wall.
I stared at the quiet, dark forest through the carved balusters of the concrete
balustrade that was now level with my face. The silence didn't calm me down at all. It
seemed unnatural to me. Maybe because I used to live in a large housing estate,
surrounded by people. There was always someone making noise there. Someone was
listening to music, someone shouted something, threw something, cursed or drove
away from the parking lot with tires screeching. These sounds were missing here. From
time to time, only the wind rustled ominously, emphasizing the peace prevailing here.
I leaned my head against the wall, not feeling the need to approach the railings.
I wrapped my mother's sweater even tighter around me, covering even half of my face.
I told myself it was a substitute for hugging my mother. I missed it so much. So much
so that at one point I curled up into a ball and hugged myself, pulling my sweater as
tight as I could.
Then there was the sound of a door opening, most likely from the balcony next door.
The noise consisted of footsteps and hushed voices, and I immediately recognized that
it was the twins who had become my unknowing companions.
I hugged the wall tighter, knowing that in this position I was invisible to them. I didn't
have the slightest desire to greet them, so I froze and remained silent, hoping that they
would only leave for a moment.
There was a click of lighters. – …she's
annoying.
It was Tony who said these words in a hoarse voice, inhaling cigarette smoke as he
did so. My heart skipped a beat because I immediately knew who he was talking about.
And if I had any doubts, Shane's words would effectively dispel them.
“She's a younger sister, what did you expect,” he laughed.

– Nothing. I still don't see the point in keeping her here.
Oh. It hurt.
I looked ahead at the gloomy trees dominating this night scenery
and I couldn't stop listening.
– Come on, she's cute. So calm and completely harmless.
– Annoying. This is not the place for her.
– We are a family, where else should it belong?
Before Tony answered, he blew air out of his mouth, probably along with
smoke.
– Her presence here complicates our lives.
Then one of them got a message from a girl and the brothers started
commenting on her breasts, so I took this opportunity to quietly go back inside.
I no longer felt like doing anything. I felt absolutely sorry and cursed myself
for my sensitivity.
After all, these people are strangers to me, I shouldn't care what they think
about me. Isn't it?
Tony hated me, and to say Shane stood up for me was a gross
exaggeration. I was indifferent to them. With this gloomy thought, I lay down
on my bed, miserable as ever. That evening I fell asleep in my mother's
sweater, my fists clenching desperately around it.
Monet's name
As a decent and organized person, even in the greatest pain

I was able to force myself to get out of bed in the morning and get it back
in working order. Especially on school days. That's why when Monday
came, when I was to enter the private high school Vincent sent me to for
the first time, I was ready to leave well ahead of time.
The uniform fit me like a glove. The khaki plaid skirt reached just above
the knee, the tucked-in white shirt smelled new, and the stiff dark jacket
weighed nobly on my shoulders.
Every now and then I glanced at my right breast, where the school logo
was embroidered on the pocket. On my feet I was wearing patent leather
shoes and long white knee-high socks. I couldn't get used to looking like
all those characters in books and TV series about rich kids in private
academies. However, a thought occurred to me that I would rather read
about them than act in them myself. I just felt uncomfortable in this look.
I wanted to wear something familiar, something that would make me
remember that I was the same person, Hailie. I started looking around the
wardrobe for such a thing, but the uniform was there
so complete that any additions would be unnecessary. That's when my eyes fell on the
box of earrings my mother had given me. I slowly reached for it, opened it and stared at
two shiny hearts.
I was brought out of my reverie by Will knocking on my room to wake me up. He was
surprised but also approving of my self-discipline, and then he walked up to me and
glanced over my shoulder at the treasure I was holding in my hand.
- Beautiful.
“From mom,” I whispered. It took a lot for me to hold back the tears.
They liked to appear in my eyes at moments like this, completely unexpectedly. And I
didn't want to go to school with a swollen face.
– Why don't you wear them?
– She wouldn't let me. I think at first she was afraid that I was too small and was eating
I will lose it. – I smiled slightly.
“Then why did she give them to you?” Will raised an eyebrow.
– She didn't give it. I found them myself a few years ago when I was playing in her
room. She was a little mad at me. She gave me a long lecture about rummaging through
other people's things.
– She hid them from you? Will asked curiously. His voice was so nice, so gentle and
calm. He brought me the comfort I needed, especially on this stressful morning. I also
liked his sincere but unobtrusive interest.
– She bought them for me on the occasion of my birth, but she wanted to give them
to me only when I was an adult. As a symbolic gift, you know.
She liked things like that.
- I see. Will nodded and stared thoughtfully

in my earrings. – Would you like to put them on now?
I hesitated.
“Hmm… I guess… I guess not,” I whispered and, having confirmed my decision, I
closed the box and then put it on the shelf in the dressing room. – I really don't want to
lose them, so maybe it's better not to.
Will patted my shoulder, showing he supported my decision.

I know it's just a matter of stupid earrings, but with this gesture he
reassured me.
He then sent me to the kitchen, where I was eating breakfast with a
headband in my hair and a twinkle in my eye when Shane joined me.
In contrast, he was disheveled and unconscious, and his uniform tie was
thrown loosely around his shoulders, not yet tied. I noticed he gave me a
long look, but didn't comment on my appearance, so different from his
own. He was obviously out of sorts; he sighed loudly, waiting impatiently
for the coffee machine to prepare his coffee.
Tony rolled next up the stairs into the kitchen. He was hands down
winning the grumpier twin contest. He didn't even put his shirt on, let alone
lost his tie. He didn't even look at me or bother to respond to my hoarse
"hello." It's not like I'd be keen to greet him myself, especially after the
conversation I overheard last evening. I knew I had upset him and I
guessed he would ignore me, but what could I say - my mother raised me
to be a cultured person.
The same couldn't be said about him. That was the first time I thought
about my brothers' childhood. Our mutual father apparently died a few
years ago in an accident, and although I felt great dislike for this man, I
began to think about what kind of parent he was to his sons. And then I
went a step further and tried to imagine what their mother might have been
like. I was very curious about it, but unfortunately I couldn't imagine that I
would ever have the courage to ask any of them a question about it.
I was thinking about this and I accidentally stared at Tony, because

when I woke up, he was already sitting at the table, scowling at me - he
was frowning gloomily, pouring handfuls of cinnamon cereal into his bowl
with his tattooed hand.
- What? – I asked, climbing to the heights of my self-confidence.
I wasn't supposed to mess with him, but I didn't want him to think he
could intimidate me with one stupid look. Even if it was true. Apart from that
Of the two of us, he was the one seething with hostility here.
– Shit.
How mature.
This effectively silenced me, because even though I knew a few phrases
I could use in this situation, I didn't want to banter with him, not when he
wasn't doing it for fun. I must have really irritated him. It hurt me a bit, I'll
admit, but I tried to tell myself to ignore him. After all, during this period of
my life I had much more serious reasons to be sad.
“Don't talk to her like that,” Will admonished him, crossing the threshold
of the kitchen just in time to hear our brief exchange. I was glad that he
joined us because I felt safest and most comfortable in his presence.
Although he looked quite menacing at the moment, it was only because he
was giving Tony a stern look.
Soon, Dylan also came to the kitchen, surprisingly energetic compared to
the twins. He was already dressed in his uniform, but there was still water
dripping from his hair, and when he started preparing his conditioner cocktail,
I guessed that he had already completed his morning training, and let me
tell you, I was a little impressed with his motivation. Maybe I would have
asked him about it, had it not been for the fact that I was sure he would
answer me in a rude way. Just like Tony didn't like me very much and you could feel it.
For this reason, I was glad that I got to go to school with Shane in his car. The shiny,
bright navy blue one that looked like it was straight out of some racing movie. There were
only two seats inside, and I wasn't too upset that Tony and Dylan couldn't fit. I guess they
didn't either, because Tony took obvious pleasure in starting his impressive motorcycle,
which made me both curious and terrified at the sight of it. With such a machine, my teenage
brother could easily join a motorcycle gang and who knows, maybe he actually belonged to
one. I wouldn't be surprised at all. Despite my dislike for Tony, a quite intriguing image of
him was beginning to emerge in my head.
The boys overtook us without any fuss as soon as we left the Monet
property. Simple, surrounded by forests and rarely frequented
the road was asking for me to exceed the speed limit and even I felt it, and I'm not
a big fan of fast driving at all. So I held on to the belt that ran across my chest,
waiting for Shane to press the gas pedal, which didn't happen.
The car moved steadily at a normal speed, and the engine only purred impatiently
from time to time. Shane kept his hands loose on the steering wheel and I stared
ahead. By the way, I noticed a large inscription "Lamborghini" on the dashboard in
an elegant, intricate font.
Okay, I was sitting in a Lamborghini sports car and even I knew that many car
enthusiasts would give a kidney to be in my position. The interior of the car shone
with elegance of the highest order - the seats were leather and ash-black, in the
middle, right next to the dashboard, there was a touch screen on which Shane
flipped through music and turned on the air conditioning, although it was not warm
enough for us to need it, in my opinion.
“Idiot,” he muttered, watching the silhouettes of our brothers on motorcycles

disappearing far in front of us.
– Couldn't you catch up with them? A car like this? – I started talking, actually
more interested in starting a conversation with him than in the capabilities of his car.
– Maybe I could catch up, I don't know. He shrugged and glanced at me

carefully. – Aren't you traumatized or something?
Oh, so that's what he meant. I frowned, seriously considering this
wondering, because anyway, he asked a pretty good question.
– It wasn't speed that killed my mother. It was done by a drunk driver.
Shane nodded and I thought that would make him pick up the pace. Not that I
cared that much about chasing Dylan and Tony, but I wanted him to feel comfortable
and natural around me. That didn't happen, and the explanation was as follows:
"Vince told me to be doubly careful when riding
with you anyway."
The smile that appeared on my face was one of the most forced ones that had
ever appeared on it. However, another issue in his statement caught my attention
and I focused on it.
– So Vince is also legally your guardian?

– No, he just likes to give orders.
“But you and Tony aren't eighteen yet, are you?” – I pretended that it had just occurred
to me.
- True.
– So who is responsible for you then? – I asked directly.
I hoped I wasn't making some huge faux pas. Shane was scowling at the road, but I
guess that wasn't his reaction to my prying, because, as I noted, he'd been scowling like
that all morning.
– Uncle Monty.
His terse replies were starting to tire me and I wasn't going to drag his tongue any
longer this time, even though I had no idea who the hell this person could be. Exceptionally,
Shane miraculously reflected on himself and explained his words:
– Dad's brother. But he rarely visits us. Sometimes he helps Vince with his business
and that's it. He is our guardian only on paper, he does not interfere in our lives.
– So you are actually responsible for yourselves?

– Actually, Vince cuts into everything, but yeah, we have a lot of freedom. Lucky me,
because if he were to be my guardian, I would probably go crazy.
I looked to the side at the dense forests surrounding the road, which were scrolling
outside the window like a movie on a tape. This state probably consisted only of trees, I
swear.
“I mean,” Shane said again after a moment, probably realizing the blunder he'd made.
– I mean, you know, it's different with you. I've known him all my life, he's always been an
annoying older brother to me, so it would be weird if he suddenly became my guardian.
Father knew it too, that's why... it was his... yes, will. For Uncle Monty to have power.
In fact, it was clear that we were going to stay home with Vince and the rest anyway.
– How was this known?

Shane glanced at me, frowning.
– Well... we're family, right? We stick together.
“Oh, yes,” I whispered.
– But you have nothing to worry about.
- NO? – I muttered, extremely interested because I could write a long book about
the things I was currently worried about.
– Vince may have a shitload of brothers, but he lacks experience with sisters. And
younger ones at that. That's why I think he won't be as mean to you as he is to us.
I was quite skeptical about Shane's theory, although interesting, due to the
severity I had encountered from Vincent so far. But soon my attention was absorbed
by the weathered walls of Northeast Pennsylvania Academy. The first thing I saw
was the school's nameplate, and then my stomach dropped miserably.
Not only did my nerves start to sweat, but my hands were shaking too, and I tucked
them under my thighs so Shane wouldn't notice.
Here, there was a special lane on the road for cars going to the school. There
was a line of cars lined up there at the moment, which must have been normal at this
time, shortly before classes started. Still, the line moved smoothly, and I craned my
neck to see as much as possible.
Shane, on the other hand, drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, looking
out the side window without excitement.
Even though my brother's car undoubtedly dominated with its elitism, in my
opinion there were no ugly cars here at all.
This really surprised me, because while I understood that some of the drivers were
parents taking their children to school, I also noticed many teenagers - people not
much older than me - who were behind the wheels of things that many adults could
not afford. , hard-working people.
Then I more or less realized what school I was going to,

and I asked myself a simple but important question. How will I find my way here?
The queue was forming through the barrier. To cross it, you had to use
your own document, probably issued by the school. After it was scanned by
the machine, the barrier moved up by itself. When it was time for Shane, he
took his badge out of the door pocket and after a while we entered the grounds
of my new school.
My brother turned the steering wheel with lazy movements, weaving boredly between
the other students. They seemed to get out of the way of the blue Lamborghini themselves.
I had already stopped fidgeting and looking around, but on the contrary, I clung to the back
of the chair, as if hoping that it would swallow me up and disappear so that I wouldn't have
to face that terrible day.
It was then that I noticed the first signs of interest in me.

People looked first at the car they knew well, then at the equally familiar
Shane, and finally they looked at me.
I avoided any eye contact with any of them because I sensed an unhealthy
curiosity in them. Or maybe I just found it unhealthy for the simple reason that
I had never been the subject of such intense attention before.
Shane took the parking space where Tony's car was already parked.
Even though other empty spaces were filling up in a flash, this one seemed to
be waiting for him. Apparently these must have been the Monet brothers'
permanent haunts. Just nearby was the side entrance to the school, and right
next to it there was a low wall against which Tony, Dylan, and a few other boys
were already leaning. I guessed they gathered here every morning.
I also got some prying eyes from this team. Before I got out of the car, I
took a deep breath. Well, at least I could always count on Tony's indifference.
He was the only one who looked at me like I was a ghost.
– Oho, Monet's famous sister has arrived.

The comment was made by one of the boys' friends. He gave me a mocking
smile, which I saw before I shyly lowered my eyes to the asphalt, slinging my
bag over my shoulder. Because everyone here wore identical uniforms, my
entire band of brothers seemed like clones to me.
Each of the boys looked the same at first glance. Two of them had
darker complexion, and one had hair almost white as flour, but that was enough of a
difference between them.
“Eh,” Dylan growled at him, suddenly feeling strangely underwhelmed. – Don't talk to
her.
– Okay, okay, sorry. – The boy shrugged and turned away from me to prove that he
didn't care to talk to me at all.
My brother's harsh reaction surprised me a bit, but I quickly realized that Dylan wasn't
eager to simply introduce me to his group of friends. Honestly, I didn't feel comfortable
enough to stand here with them and pretend I was one of them.
They were all boys, and older than me. What's more, they had a suspiciously intimidating
aura of school stars that I really didn't want to get into.
My old school also had a few more popular groups. This is probably what happens in
schools - there are always people who are more interesting and liked than others. Usually
these are kids who have a little more pocket money, so they can afford nice clothes. But
being popular at this particular academy seemed like a strangely disturbing achievement
to me. It's just that, as far as I could tell, most, if not all, of the students who attended here
came from wealthy families. So money didn't impress anyone here.
Unless someone had so many of them that they drove a Lamborghini sports car to
school. After all, as a girl from a simple family, living a simple life so far, I never thought
about the fact that wealth also has its levels. There are people who are just financially
secure, and there are also those who have disgusting tons of money.
I slowly began to understand that my brothers were apparently the latter, and it all still
seemed like a dream to me.
– Hailie, can you hear me? I say you should go to the office, preferably that way,'
Shane instructed me, breaking me out of my thoughts. He and his friends, and even Dylan
and Tony, were now looking at me. – You'll get a lesson plan and stuff there. Introduce
yourself and they will take care of everything for you.
I looked in the direction Shane's hand was pointing. I didn't quite understand how to get
there, but I was already heading in that direction, wanting to get away from my brothers as
quickly as possible. I still felt other people's eyes on me for a moment, but as I disappeared
around the corner of the building, I felt a moment of relief as people stopped paying attention
to me.
However, I knew that her absence was only due to a momentary ignorance that this ordinary
girl was the lost sister of the Monet brothers.
I found my way to the office without any problems and without having to ask strangers
for help, which was very important to me. It occurred to me that if my brothers were more
cordial, they would show me the way, but if I was always going to be under fire in their
company, it might be better that their behavior was devoid of such politeness.
The office here was very different from the one at my old school.
Somehow, the staff managed to maintain relative order here, while in my previous high
school the secretaries tried to convince everyone that it was impossible due to the amount
of paperwork they had to deal with every day. Here, there was obviously a better system or
greater rigor, because every file and binder had its place, and the dark brown furniture
combined with light walls gave the room seriousness and neatness.
I approached the desk where the secretary was sitting. She was sipping coffee from a
mug decorated with pink flamingos and clicking on the computer whose monitor was out of
my view. I introduced myself politely, to which I received more glances from every person in
the room who heard my quiet voice. I was glad that at least the school staff tried to be
professional, because in the end I was served in the most ordinary way and with a smile
they wished me a successful first day of school.
It was in this office that I gained hope that maybe I would be treated normally here. The
students were very curious about me, but that's usually what happens when someone joins
a month and a half after the school year starts. Especially in a school as intimate as this
one. You don't have to be the long-lost sister of the popular brothers to attract attention.
The instructions I received from the secretary turned out to be so clear that
I had no problem finding the room where I was supposed to have my first
classes. The corridors were well marked, and the building itself was not a
behemoth like my old school, where every new person felt like they were in a maze.
I read my lesson plan and had to concentrate properly because there were
stairs. The writing itself was very different from what I was used to in England.
I was standing in front of the room and staring at one of the many cards that I
received, neatly packed in a cardboard folder with the school logo pressed
everywhere I could. That's when the first person started talking to me.
A girl named Tanya, petite and with rectangular, violet glasses that rested
on her long, straight nose. I let her take a look at my schedule because she
was curious if we had any more lessons in common beyond the upcoming
French language class. Then another girl joined us, with whom I was supposed
to have math in the second hour, and then another, and another.
– So it's true that you lived in England?

– You can even hear it in her accent. Yes, it's absolutely wonderful!
– How about the move? Gosh, it must have been so hard, all of a sudden
move life to another continent...
– How do you like it here?
– Hello, by the way, I'm also half-English, I often go to London, I have family
there, you know...
I tried to catch all the questions and respond appropriately. Soon I was
literally surrounded. The girls were talking to each other like vendors at a
market. Some of them introduced themselves to me, and in the end I didn't
remember any of their names except Tanya's, and that was only because she
picked on me first. My memory wasn't helped by the fact that all these girls
looked the same to me because of their identical clothes, just like my brothers'
friends. Their hair, figures, facial features and skin color were strangely
irrelevant to my brain - only black jackets, shirts and plaid skirts mattered.
– Wait, are you living with the Monet brothers now? – one of them asked.
“Stupid question,” the other one said. – You saw she came with Shane.
Fortunately, before the girls could get angry at each other or start getting too deep into
my relationships with my older siblings, which would be very embarrassing for me to talk
about, the bell rang. At least that was something my old school had in common with this
new one. Bells announcing lessons and breaks.
I guess that's where the similarities ended. The rooms in which classes were held were
larger than those in my former high school, and the groups of students were smaller. The
teachers' curiosity was barely inferior to that of the students, and during each lesson they
asked me to introduce myself publicly.
I expected that on the first day there would be no such form of self-presentation, so I had
practiced a few trivial sentences, which I repeated every time until I got bored.
- Well, let's see if you can save the Monets' image - joked Mr. Dalton from English, who
was a young man, a typical joker and probably liked by most of the school. He was also
not ugly, rather short, and some girls even gave him flirtatious glances, which he ignored
with full professionalism.
I also immediately liked Mrs. Roberts, who from the very first moments impressed me
as my favorite teacher - she seemed understanding, warm and very calm, and every word
she said rang pleasantly in my ears, making listening to her talk about photosynthesis a
pleasure. downright therapeutic. Besides, I also felt that I had the potential to become her
favorite. Today I was still quiet and shy, but if I had to point out something that I felt good
at, it was definitely learning.
The first more awkward situation I found myself in came during my lunch break. I
arrived at the cafeteria, which surprised me with its spaciousness and high glass wall
overlooking the colorful crowns of densely planted Pennsylvania trees. The golden autumn
glow was seeping in, coloring the dining room.
While everyone was making fun of me during breaks, as if out of spite, now when I
needed a companion the most, suddenly everyone was there.
busy with himself and his group of friends. I was already starting to accept that I would have
to either unceremoniously sit down at someone's table or find some secluded, deserted
place where I could eat alone.
This second option especially made me uncomfortable, because I soon noticed a crowded
corner that was apparently the permanent haunt of the Monet brothers. Of course, I wouldn't
join them there for anything in the world, but I wouldn't want them to see me standing
somewhere lost, lonely and unable to establish a simple friendship.
I was relieved when my little problem solved itself, because when I was being served by
one of the two efficient cooks and leaving the counter with a tray full of food I didn't even
want to eat, a girl I'd seen several times today approached me. She even said something to
me earlier, but I couldn't remember what. I had either math or science with her.
“Hey, I just want to tell you…” she started, clasping her hands in front of her and playing
with her fingers. – If anything happens, sit down with us. There, at that table. If you want.
The stone that fell from my heart put a smile on my face.
“Sure, I'll be happy to join,” I replied. - Thank you.

Mona, as my new friend introduced herself, took me to a table where another girl was
sitting. I greeted her politely and we immediately struck up a conversation. It was the first
meaningful conversation I had at this school today. It was definitely easier for me to focus
on two people than on half of the academy's population. The girls asked me about my
impressions of the teachers and confirmed my suspicions about Mrs. Roberts' good nature
and Mr. Dalton's playfulness.
“Audrey is in love with him,” Mona revealed, lowering her voice just a little.
and her embarrassed friend nudged her hard.
“You're stupid,” she muttered, brushing her hair forward as if by accident. They were
straight and long, just like mine, but much thinner, and so dark that they were almost black,
which contrasted greatly with hers.
skin as pale as a cloudy sky. – I just like him because he's not a bore or a
vindictive loser like Coach Mendoza, for example.
“Oh, this guy just hates anyone who isn't good at sports,” Mona told me matter-
of-factly. – He even disliked me until he realized that I was reporting to him
when I was indisposed due to my period too often.
– I hate sports, and in turn, sports and Mendoza hate me.
– Audrey shrugged, resigned to her fate.
“Hmm, I don't think I like sports either,” I confessed, with a hint of worry clearly
in my voice.
– But come on, you have nothing to worry about at all! – Mona waved her
hand, silver bracelets dangling from her wrist. – Mendoza loves your brothers.
Just the mention of Monets makes him cry.
There is so much love that it is enough for you just for your name, even if you
are weak.
– What, are they really that good?
– The best.
– Actually, I've always been curious about how Tony combines sports with smoking –
Audrey wondered aloud.
– Hey! – a boy asked, appearing at our table as if out of nowhere. His copper
hair reached behind his ears and was slightly curly, and now very messy. He had
a full face and a lot of freckles, and his cheerful almond-shaped eyes smiled at
us even more heartily than his mouth. – Listen, I've discussed the matter and we
can do the project to Roberts together.
– Great, that's the end of the problem – said Mona, and then openly
She pointed at me with her hand: “By the way, meet Hailie Monet.”
I wanted to sigh at the change in the boy.
He was stunned and blinked, suddenly feeling strangely tense.
“Oh shit, I didn't notice you, sorry,” he explained, clumsily
he held out his hand to me. –Marshall. Nice to meet you.
“Mutually,” I replied, tilting my head. I wondered,
why is he looking around so nervously.
– How is your first day going? - He asked.
– A lot of new things, but I guess I just have to get used to it and it will be fine.
- Cool. You know, everything should go smoothly with your name.
– Geez, leave her alone with that name. "The poor girl must be feeling the
pressure," Audrey admonished them, and I admit I was grateful.
– Right, sorry.
– Okay, change of topic, will you sit down with us? – Audrey patted the day off
chair next to each other.
– Or with us?
It was an overly friendly voice that I didn't immediately recognize. I guess I

needed some time to get used to having brothers. The first thing I saw was
Marshall's bulging eyes, staring at whoever had just been lurking behind me. Mona
and Audrey froze as well, and then I started and turned just as Dylan placed his
fingers on the back of my chair. It creaked as he shifted the weight of his muscular
body onto it, and his tie hung in front of my face as he leaned forward slightly.
Marshall, Mona and Audrey were silent, staring at him with parted lips, and the
new friend turned unhealthily pale.
– With you? – he repeated, nervously scratching the back of his head.
Dylan shrugged.
– Since you can't find another place and you're bothering the girls, we'll be
happy to have you at our table.
We all turned our eyes to the Coins corner, where everyone present was now
looking at us in turn. Some of them had bored expressions, others had mocking
expressions. Shane and Tony's faces looked something in between.
I frowned and turned back to Dylan to try to reason with him. This time I lifted
my head and tilted it back a little so that his tie wouldn't wave in front of my mouth
when I opened it.
– Nobody bothers anyone here.
He glanced down at me, then raised his hand and patted the top of my head
familiarly.
– Hush, little sister.
I blinked, taken aback by his condescending treatment. I even turned back to
my new friends and stared at them in disbelief for a few seconds before I woke up
and craned my neck again with a loud, irritated smack.
– I'm serious, you hear? Come on.

But he wasn't looking at me anymore. Instead, his eyes darted
poor, innocent Marshall.
– So what will it be like?
“I have a place to sit,” my new friend replied with obvious tension in his voice.
Then he glanced at us, or rather at Mona and Audrey, and with apparent casualness
said: - I'll go now. - Finally, he straightened up and said stiffly to Dylan, "Thanks for
the offer, though."
My brother winked at him cheerfully.
- No problem.
As Marshall fled with immediate effect, Mona and Audrey sat quietly, clearly
surprised by the scene. I stared at the departing boy's back, feeling the sour taste
of the unnecessary confusion in my mouth, until my brother, standing above me,
touched my arm.
– How was the first day, everything ok?

I looked at him. There were a lot of things I wanted to tell him at that moment,
and none of them answered his question. Well, that turned out to be zero problem
for him because he actually didn't even wait for her.
– By the way, Shane and I have plans after school, so you're coming back today
drive home with Tony.
And again, not caring about my answer, he ruffled my hair before waving to me and my
new friends as he walked back to the Monet table.
I swear I didn't even dare look at them for a moment.

The best thing I could do was to take a deep breath and try to get rid of all
the negative feelings that had arisen during that short scene. I was angry,
helpless, and a little humiliated. I fixed my hair that my brother had messed
up. I stubbornly didn't look up, staring at his tray of food.
I ordered fries and a salad. Now I imagined throwing them in Dylan's face.
“Um… So they really are your brothers,” Audrey concluded.

I nodded, still pursing my lips and looking down.
Unfortunately, that's what I thought. Because no one will want to be
friends with a girl who has brothers like that. And the first days at a new
school were hard enough for me, really. I didn't need any additional
obstacles to making friends.
“It's scary sitting with you,” Mona joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Then I looked at the two girls who were looking at me in spite

all with gentle smiles.
“I'm sorry about him…” I mumbled. – I don't know what he's talking about
what it was about and why he interfered at all.
– Cool, he only confirmed what everyone already knows. Mona shrugged.
- What?
The corners of Audrey's mouth twitched.
– Well, no guy has the right to approach you.

- I'm listening?
– How many guys have you talked to today?

I blinked again. The new revelations seemed so idiotic to me that I
immediately thought about answering Audrey's question and refuting her
thesis at the same time, but then it hit me that in fact I had only been with
girls all day. When you realize this
I realized, my eyes widened, and my new friends patiently waited for me to process
this information.
– What did they… How? - I gasped, first placing my hand on my forehead and then
lowering it along with my shoulders, making me hunch over and snort: - Have they
made an official statement or something?
– They didn't have to.
Seeing my pained expression, Mona finally took pity on me.

– Okay, listen. I see there's a lot you don't know, so I'll explain it to you.
"Your brothers have a bad reputation," she said quietly, glancing cautiously at their
table from time to time.
- What does it mean?
– There are various rumors about them, and they don't even try to deny them.
– What rumors?
– Oh, you know… Monet's name is quite famous around here.
“And influential,” Audrey added.
– And it's terrifying.
Mona tilted her head as if trying to decipher whether I was really that uninformed
or just pretending, until she finally said, "Gee, you really have no idea."
“I don't have anything to say,” I muttered quietly, burying my face in my hands.

“Don't worry, it's actually cute,” Audrey comforted me.
“That's right, Dylan called you 'little sister,'” Mona said.
I scowled at them.
“Okay,” Audrey sighed, “he was scary too.”
– But how handsome.
I grimaced and the girls giggled in a knowing manner.
Well, I wasn't laughing. Instead, I held my head as I remembered what Dylan had told
me when he played the overprotective brother. I was supposed to go home with Tony!
Well, really, that's what I was missing. It's not fair that of all mine
brothers must have fallen on him. This didn't make me smile, especially after
what I had just heard from the girls.
I didn't see Tony again until after school, when I reluctantly made my way to
the parking lot. He stood alone, in a white shirt and without a jacket. He was
leaning against Shane's Lamborghini, smoking a cigarette. As I walked towards
him, I felt like I was being followed by curious glances, which I was slowly
getting used to after a whole day spent at this school. Without a word, I took
the passenger seat and waited obediently until my brother finished poisoning himself.
At the same time, I was surprised how it was possible that he didn't even try to
hide it. After all, we were still on school grounds.
Finally, the driver's door opened and Tony got inside. I wrinkled my nose,
bracing myself for the stench of cigarettes, but whatever he was smoking
surprisingly didn't smell of tobacco, at least not intensely.
Tony dropped the lighter into the door compartment, pulled up his uniform shirt
sleeves to reveal part of his tattoo, and seemed ready to drive, but he didn't
start the engine right away. Instead, he turned his head towards me, his blue
eyes glaring at me menacingly.
“Now that we're alone, let's explain something,” he began ominously. – You
complained about me.
I looked at his irritated expression and swallowed hard, hoping I was doing
it as discreetly as possible.
– And…
“And I told you to keep quiet,” he continued and shook his head in
undisguised disgust. – Listen, next time you better do as I say. Got it, young
one?
If it weren't for the cold that was freezing me at that moment, I would have
happily shouted at Tony and asked him what he would do if I didn't listen to
him. I really wanted to know, because whether he would be able to do any real
harm to me seemed to me to be quite important information.
However, maybe it was because of the unpleasant look he was giving me, or
maybe because of what Audrey and Mona had told me about the Monet
brothers during the break, that I chose not to get under Tony's skin any more
than before, and finally I just nodded slowly.
I must have satisfied him, because then he started the engine, the
tattooed hand rested on the steering wheel, and I sat stiffly, glancing to
the side the whole way. I thought about apologizing for spilling it in front
of Vincent or at least explaining to him how it happened, but in the end
I didn't have the courage to speak up, so as soon as he parked in the
vast garage of the Monet villa, I got out and ran as far away from this
person as I disliked. brother.
That evening, of all my brothers, Will was the only one who bothered
to ask how my first day at my new school was.
Trivial things
After with that little warning from Tony, I was even more afraid of him.
The easiest way was to avoid him, which I did just fine since he didn't
bother spending time with me either.
Luckily, I mostly went to school with Shane. I liked traveling with him
the most because I could at least talk to him, even if they weren't always
high-level discussions. Tony mostly stayed silent around me, and every
time Dylan couldn't help but make some snarky comment.
As for life at school, the male part of the academy was still afraid to
ask me about even simple stupidity. Each boy preceded his interactions
with me (of which little was initiated) by discreetly looking around to make
sure the Monet brothers weren't hiding somewhere nearby.
This was starting to seriously irritate me. Dylan, Shane and Tony went
unpunished in their behavior, and the entire school seemed to be cheering
them on and just getting out of their way. I had the impression that we
went back to the Middle Ages and they played the role of representatives
of the royal family. That's one of the reasons I avoided them between
lessons. I didn't identify with their star lifestyle and that was enough for me
I live with them under one roof. Unfortunately, even though I tried to hide in the
shadows, it was impossible to completely distance myself from them.
I spent long breaks in the company of Mona and Audrey, girls with whom I
managed to become friends. The first one was very keen on my attention, and her
way of being overly excited about everything seemed so sincere that I gravitated
towards her, after all, I wanted no less than to be part of at least one group of friends.
Even a small, three-person one.
That day, we decided to take advantage of the last nice moments this year and went outside
for lunch. We weren't the only ones who came up with this idea. The school yard was filled with
students and almost all the picnic benches were occupied. We managed to get one of them
and were basking in the warmth, relaxing for the second part of the day, when suddenly the
sounds of some commotion reached our ears.
I opened my eyes and shielded them from the sun to look at the group of onlookers
that had formed a short distance away from us. Mona was already craning her neck,
and among the three of us, she was the one who took the first steps towards the
gathering crowd. Audrey and I followed her lead and soon we knew the reason for
this sudden gathering.
Two boys started fighting and I froze when I recognized one of them as Tony.
“Fighting” is too much to say; Only my brother actually threw the punches, and his
victim was clumsily trying to defend himself. I watched in horror as his tattooed hand
tugged at the injured man's tie. I looked at the faces of the people gathered around.
Some laughed and cheered for Tony, others grimaced at the brutality of the show, but
few were as scared and disgusted as I was.
When blood gushed out of the boy's nose after an exceptionally strong blow from
my brother, I felt like I had enough of it and without thinking much, I went straight into
the middle of the scandal. What gave me courage was the fact that Tony was, after
all, my brother, otherwise I would probably have stood like a pillar of salt, just like the
rest of the people watching. He may not like me, but he probably won't beat up his
own sister, right?
I didn't get to find out because before I could get between him and the boy
with a bleeding nose, someone grabbed my arm and stopped me. I turned
around, knowing it wasn't one of my new friends - the hug was too strong.
Well, I was right, because Dylan stopped me from getting involved in the
fight. I looked into his eyes. I saw them as a warning tinged with disbelief, but
I was too preoccupied to take them seriously and retreat with my tail between
my legs, as I would have done in any other situation.
I couldn't watch my brother, with whom I had breakfast at the same table
today, now so aggressively and heartlessly slap someone in the face, leaving
bruises that would last for weeks.
I tried to break away, but to no avail, because I had no chance against Dylan's
muscular arm, so I finally gave up and tried to use verbal persuasion.
– Stop him!
I received a blank look from him in response.
– Please, he's hurting this boy...
Nothing.
- He's going to have problems...
In the background I could hear the long moan of Tony's victim. The people
closest to me and Dylan also became interested in our confrontation. Some
even more than the fighting itself.
– Dylan, do something! – I finally exclaimed hysterically.
– Be quiet, don't interfere.
Now it was my face that showed disbelief. I couldn't do anything about it,
because when I glanced at Tony, wanting to shout at him to come to his
senses, the beaten boy was already lying on the ground, barely able to make
contact. Tony leaned over him and whispered something into his ear before
tugging at his jacket one last time, looking down at him with contempt.
Just then, a red-faced woman with raised eyebrows and tightly pursed lips
appeared, around which extremely deep wrinkles had formed. Someone on
the side whispered that it was the director.
Well, well done, just in time, because Tony had just finished making a pulp of another
student.
My brother was immediately dragged to the carpet, a nurse was called to the
scene, and Coach Mendoza, a tall man with dark facial hair, began to disperse the
crowd, shouting and whistling at us repeatedly with a whistle that dangled around his
neck like any self-respecting gym teacher.
I winced as Dylan dragged me behind him towards the school building.
Halfway there he stopped and turned me around so I was facing him.
– Why the hell did you push between them? You'd get hit yourself.
– Why did Tony beat him so much? – I asked reproachfully.
I had the values sorted neatly, so I knew exactly who was here
he really deserves to be reprimanded and that person was by no means me.
– It's none of your business at all.
– Then why didn't you stop him? That boy was bleeding!
I crossed my arms. I tried to ignore the people passing by, listening, as if hoping
for another Monet drama. Dylan looked down at me for a moment in a strange way,
as if he didn't understand English, then shook his head and sighed.
– Go back to class, Hailie.

I lowered my arms to my sides.
– But…
– No "buts".
I obeyed him over the sharp tone. My relationship with Dylan wasn't the best, so I didn't
want to make it worse for my own good. On the way to class, I stopped by the bathroom to
look in the mirror. My face certainly showed signs of concern from a few minutes ago - my
eyes were still shiny, and the corners of my mouth refused to lift or even straighten. I was
still pale, so I pinched my cheeks, hoping it would give them some color. I once read about
noblewomen doing this in the old days.
Once I felt I was presentable enough to go to class, I slung my bag

over my shoulder and my phone slipped out of the open compartment.
Before I could react, he fell onto the tiles and his screen cracked into a
million pieces. The damage must have been serious because it didn't
even want to turn on.
I panicked. My first thought was of my mother, who wouldn't be
happy if I brought home the news from school that I had destroyed my
phone. I would definitely have to go without it for a while.
Especially since this one was relatively new, I got it about four months
ago. It wasn't top of the line, but it met my basic requirements and I
liked it. I also knew that it was quite an expense for my mother.
I ended up staying in the bathroom longer, first begging the universe
for the phone to work its magic, switching it from one hand to the other,
rubbing and pressing the buttons on the case over and over again.
Unfortunately, no one listened to my prayers. Nobody ever listens to
them. Then I started the process of preparing to go out in front of people
again. This time I also had to dry
my watery eyes. Great, I'll look like I'm crying because Tony is fighting.
It was absolutely terrible for me to get through the rest of the class. I
checked every now and then to see if the cell phone had repaired itself.
I was sad because my entire bookstagram world was on my phone and
I wasn't ready to lose it. I was also stressed that maybe today someone
- for example Vincent - would decide to call me and I wouldn't be able
to answer. He made it clear that he always wanted to be in touch with
me. At the same time, I was afraid to tell the boys about the damage.
I kept hoping that maybe the phone would turn on again. Or that I don't
know, I'm dreaming it all.
As if that wasn't enough, I also had to listen to people in corners
discussing Tony's fight for the rest of the day. I defended myself against
the rumors with my arms and legs, because honestly, analyzing this
event was no pleasure for me, and nothing that reached my ears
sounded like confirmed information. Well, mostly it was just snippets of
wild guesses that the injured boy owed something to Tony or even got
"what he deserved." The version that most
what worried me were the words of one of the girls in my brothers' year,
who whispered feverishly to her friends that Tony had beaten a boy who
had said rude things about his sister. I doubted Tony would care what
anyone might have to say about me, but it still gave me chills and I
decided not to pursue it at all.
topic.
After the last lesson, I was leaving the classroom with Mona. My bad
mood must have radiated from me. She didn't even try to talk to me too
much, which was unlike her. I didn't want to alienate one of the few
people I could call a friend at this school, so I told her the truth about the
damaged phone, hoping that maybe by some miracle she would give me
a solution.
– Have you tried turning it off and on?
Never mind.
– I tried everything.
- Well, you know, even if it turns on by some miracle, it has such a
cobweb on the glass that you won't be able to see anything - she said,
looking at the phone I was holding with little interest. – Maybe just tell
your brothers, they'll arrange a new one for you. It's just a phone, right?
As I listened to her, I felt my chin begin to tremble. To avoid sounding
like an emotional crybaby who couldn't control herself over a stupid
phone call, I clenched my jaw.
“Mhm, you're right,” I said, trying to smile, which I doubted had anything
to do with a smile. – See you tomorrow, right?
And without waiting for an answer, I headed towards the Lamborghini,
clutching my books to my chest with one hand and my broken cell phone
in my pocket with the fingers of the other. I felt sadness and nervousness
penetrate my heart. I felt sorry that I had destroyed the phone my mother
gave me. I remember how happy I was when she gave it to me. That was
another thing I associated with her that I probably lost.
What's more, now I'll have to tell Vincent everything, huh
to put it mildly, it didn't make me optimistic either.
Dylan and Tony were standing next to the Monets' parking spaces, laughing
about something. I hadn't seen them since the fight and I didn't long to see them
again. Plus, I didn't see Shane anywhere. Shane wasn't a great support because
he didn't tend to take my side when it came to his brothers, but I could always
count on him to be nicer than those two.
When I got close enough for Dylan to take a closer look at me than I would
have liked, I quickly started examining the asphalt. I didn't like this perceptiveness
in my brothers. He was her master
Vincent, but the others had nothing to be ashamed of either. Even Tony, who
seemed completely indifferent to what was happening to me. Now he frowned at
the question Dylan had immediately asked me.
– Why were you crying?
“I didn't cry,” I replied quickly.

– Did someone tell you something?
I shook my head, pausing at the passenger door. My fingers found the hidden
button and pressed it to open the door, but the car was locked and I had to look
up at Dylan standing on the other side of the vehicle. His tense face showed
determination. I realized that we wouldn't leave the parking lot until he got
information out of me about the reasons for my sadness. I wished he would rather
handle this matter in the car, where we would have more privacy and Tony
wouldn't be breathing down my neck.
- Definitely? - Dylan clenched his fists on the roof of the car. -Is it because of
Tony's fight?
He nodded towards our brother, who sat astride the motorcycle and turned his
helmet over in his bandaged hands. I wondered how it was possible that he wasn't
even sent home. I realized how strange and unbelievable it was. The director saw
what happened with her own eyes! At the very least he should be suspended.
– No, it wasn't because of the fight.
-Don't lie, Hailie.

- I'm not lying!
I sighed and with trembling hands, reluctantly, reached into my uniform

pocket and took out my broken phone. I wasn't planning on admitting what
happened to Dylan and Tony. They didn't have to know that. However, if
they were to accuse me of lying, I preferred to tell them the truth.
– I fell.
There was a moment of silence. Dylan looked at the phone in my hand
as if it were some strange contraption he was seeing for the first time, then
he raised his eyebrows and looked back at me.
– Were you crying because you dropped your phone? – he made sure.
- Doesn't work.
I felt tears coming to my eyes again. In a moment they will start to flow
down my cheeks and I will feel even more embarrassed.
I turned my head and saw that Tony was also looking at me with a
dumbfounded expression. He frowned and grimaced strangely, as if he didn't
understand what I meant, even though I was holding an object in my hand
that proved the truth of my words. The brothers exchanged glances.
“Get in,” Dylan told me. His voice sounded different than it had just a
moment ago. Softer. I would even go so far as to say that I heard leniency in
it. Like a parent who feels exhausted by their child's harmless antics.
Well, he didn't have to tell me that twice. I sniffed, put the phone in my
jacket pocket, and this time when I pressed the button, the door opened
without incident.
On the way home, I was relieved that no one had yelled at me yet. I didn't
have a phone where I could look at the screen, so I looked at the dense
forest that was becoming more and more familiar to me. Forests cover over
fifty-eight percent of Pennsylvania, at least that's what I read somewhere.
This surprised me, because my observations so far showed that the
percentages were closer to one hundred.
I was thinking about the trees the whole way and didn't say anything, just
like Dylan, who only glanced at me from time to time, as if he wanted to ask
something, and then changed his mind. As soon as we got home, somewhere
He disappeared and I shuffled to the kitchen, where Eugenie, as usual, served me

an oversized portion of dinner.
I liked my brothers' housekeeper, but she had a particularly hard time accepting
the fact that I was not a physically active, adolescent boy, but a petite girl with a
perpetually tight stomach. I picked at the nuggets without pleasure, sometimes even
forgetting to dip them in the bowl of barbecue sauce.
When the twins arrived, I involuntarily tensed at the sight of Tony. I realized that I
was really afraid of him, especially when I was alone with him. Come to think of it, I
was a little afraid of each of my brothers, but Tony seemed to be the most
unpredictable of them all.
I watched as he helped himself to dinner. I couldn't take my eyes off his muscular,
tattooed arm and strong hands. The bandage on his hand was gone, and I felt sick
at the sight of his torn knuckles, which had recently been covered in blood.
Tony, on the other hand, paid no attention to me at all. Shane, on the other hand,
might have been more willing to talk if it weren't for the fact that his eyes lit up at the
sight of the nuggets. He grabbed a whole mountain of them onto his plate and didn't
even notice when I added the rest of mine to him.
I slipped away to my bedroom, happy to finally be in the privacy of my room. I
changed into my home clothes and sat down at my desk, ready to do my homework.
Today I solved the tasks much slower and more carefully than usual, trying to
postpone the inevitable search for Vincent as much as possible.
However, a surprise was waiting for me and some time later, when I was still sitting at my
desk and thinking about choosing the right highlighter color, there was a knock on my door.
Very quiet and isolated, a bit as if someone had accidentally knocked on them, but as I
mentioned once, the Monet Residence was very quiet and such sounds did not occur there
without a reason. I was right, because when I hesitantly invited the guest inside, my legal
guardian appeared at the threshold of my bedroom.
I immediately tensed up at the sight of him. Not only did he not call me,
but he also never visited me in my room. His face was tired, but he still
looked fantastic in a white shirt and dark suit pants.
He sat down in my chair and I turned around in my chair to face him. He

was silent for a long time, but I waited patiently for him to move, because
he seemed to be the type of man who preferred to decide not only when
the conversation should end, but also when it should begin.
“Hailie, I want to talk to you about Tony's fight,” he said. After a day full
of business meetings, the sound of his voice was still cold.
“Dylan told me you saw her.
– The whole school saw it.
I twisted my torso and clenched my fists on the back of the chair. I also
rested my chin on one of them, glancing at my oldest brother as innocently
as I could.
– He also told me how you reacted to her.
“Vince,” I started, probably for the first time in my life, calling him by his
name, even a diminutive one. I tried to make my voice sound sensible and
factual. I knew that to achieve this effect I had to control my emotions, but
it was extremely difficult for me to cool down my excitement.
– That boy was lying there and couldn't defend himself. Tony had no mercy
on him, even when his nose was bleeding!
Vince looked at me in silence for a moment, then started rubbing his
chin.
– I'm not saying that school grounds are the right place to do something
like this, and Tony definitely has an aggression problem. He certainly
should have controlled himself better. I will remind him of this again, he
promised. – However, I am here because I would like to make it clear that
I want you to stay away from such incidents in the future. And she certainly
didn't throw herself into the very center of them. It doesn't matter whether
one of your brothers participates or not. This is simply dangerous.
– But…
– It wasn't a request.
– But this is a serious matter! If I beat someone up, will you mind it too?
Vincent's eyes darkened.

– No, I won't deny it, you can be sure of that, dear Hailie.
Now please lower your tone and understand that I'm not trying to be mean.
Never, whatever happens, interfere in the affairs of your brothers. Both in and
out of school.
– So what, next time I just have to stand and watch?
– It's best to move away.
I grimaced in frustration and looked away.
“Hailie, listen to me carefully,” Vincent continued. He stood up with his
inimitable elegance. As he looked down at me, the effect of his words intensified.
– We live in this world, and not another, so I cannot guarantee that the actions
of your brothers will always be an example for you, unfortunately. And let's be
clear... I wouldn't want to be in your shoes if I found out you willingly took part in
an incident.
Can such words be considered a threat? Can't my siblings talk normally?

The only thing I could muster after Vincent's speech was to answer in a voice
half hoarse with emotion:
– I don't take part in fights. And I didn't take this one either! It was Tony who
beat up some boy at recess; How come I get hit for this? And what does this
mention of the world even mean?
Vince tilted his head slightly, as if fascinated by the fact that I even dared to
continue this conversation.
– I'm telling you, Tony is not your concern. I'm here to clarify this situation
with you, only and exclusively. If you had done something for which you should,
as you put it, get beaten, our conversation would have been different, I assure
you. Is what I am saying clear to you?
I tightened my grip on the back of the chair, discreetly taking a deep breath.
If Vincent really was as observant as he was
he looked, he certainly noticed how much it cost me to control my emotions.

With any luck, he might even appreciate my efforts.
“Sure,” I finally said. Of course, I had a lot of reservations about Vincent's words,
but conversations with him were unpleasant, and I knew that we would end it faster if
he had his way. I wasn't wrong, there was a trace of approval in his eyes.
– I'm glad we finally understood each other. Do you have anything else to add? –
he asked, looking at the white dial of the watch on his wrist.
“Uh, actually, yes,” I whispered. I forgot about my cell phone for a moment, but I
just remembered it and maybe it wasn't a good time to mention it, but I felt that there
would be no better time. – My phone is broken. That's what I'm saying, in case you, I
don't know, try to call me. You know…” I let out a sort of distorted nervous giggle. – …
if there's anything, I won't answer it.
Vince raised an eyebrow and then I sighed again.

“It's my fault, I broke it myself,” I admitted. – I fell, but it was accidentally, really, I
don't know how...
– Mhm, now, now. I know that. The boys told me.
He approached the chair I was still hanging on the back of and looked down at me,
a gentleness in his eyes that I had noticed in him for the first time since our conversation
began today. I flinched under his touch as he lifted my chin slightly with two fingers.
His dark signet ring was shining on one of them.
– Hailie, don't ever worry about such trivial things again.

I stared at him in surprise as he walked away, and he stopped for a moment with
his hand on the doorknob.
– I have a new phone for you. Come down to the kitchen for dinner and I'll give it to
you.
And he left.
Let's sum it up. I was reprimanded for trying to save a battered boy whom I wanted
to protect from more serious harm.
because of my aggressive brother, but not because I accidentally

destroyed my cell phone?
I turned back to the desk, finally letting my back rest on the back of
the chair. I even ran my hand over my face, rubbing my eyes a little. Why
did all the conversations with Vincent have to be so multi-layered,
unpredictable and complicated? This is not what I have been used to in
my fifteen years of life. My mother's rules, for example, were obvious and
the penalties for not following them were simple and logical. Thanks to
this, I always knew when I was in trouble and what kind of reaction I could
expect from my mother. With Vincent, however, it was an eternal game
of roulette.
Not wanting to irritate my caregiver or miss the promised phone call, I
went downstairs right on time for dinner. I had already said goodbye to
my damaged cell phone and put it in a drawer, not having the heart to
throw my mother's gift into the trash.
I found only Vince in the kitchen. He sat at the table and looked as
tired as he had just a few moments ago. He was quietly sipping tea and
scrolling on the tablet, while on the counter in front of him was a small
white box.
I took my seat with Eugenie's sandwich, pushing the box a little to the
side, but not too far, and glancing at it curiously. Just from the packaging
itself, it was clear that this was not just any model.
I turned the slice over in my hand for a moment, fighting with myself not
to behave like an eager child and patiently wait until the end of dinner to
unpack the new gadget, but I quickly lost the internal battle.
I put the sandwich on the plate and grabbed the box in my hands,
checking with Vincent:
– This is for me, right?
My brother looked up at me, blinked, then nodded, as if the answer to

my question was obvious. Yes, it was a gift for me and it contained the
latest model of phone. Refined to perfection, at least visually. Its color
was described by the manufacturer as silvery granite bathed in starlight,
or something like that. The device was slim and light, but not too light to
give the impression of a fake
or a Chinese toy. Gosh, I was afraid to hold the phone in my hand, and at
the same time I wanted to experience all the functions it had to offer, right
now. I weighed it in my hand, looking at my brother.
“Wow,” I whispered.
He glanced at me and gave me his trademark smile, which I had the
pleasure of seeing very rarely.
Vince was smiling.
Double wow.
In a sudden burst of boldness I never knew I had, I carefully put the
phone back in the box and stood up. Hearing the scrape of my chair,
Vincent looked up and I saw him open his mouth to comment on how I
had the nerve to get up from the table when I hadn't even started dinner,
but he closed it when he saw me just walking around the furniture. to stand
next to him. It didn't go unnoticed that he was tense, because who could
see his younger sister invading his private sphere?
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

“Thank you,” I whispered in his ear, ignoring the coldness radiating
from him, and even hugged him tighter. It was a strange feeling - as if I
was hugging a seaside rock or a dead tree limb. Except the branches
didn't hug me back, but Vince did, and I didn't have to wait long for it. He
hugged me and patted me lightly on the back.
- Please.
That was the day I hugged Vince for the first time and I felt our sister-
brother bond grow a little closer.
Angel
I liked my perfectly straight hair. And although I used to often complain that...
I wish I had luscious curls, at least what was on my head I could easily
control. My tidy hairstyle matched my fitted uniform. One day I even took an
iron to my room to make sure my shirts were wrinkle-free. I have perfected
how to tie a tie thanks to YouTube tutorials.
Every time I got ready for school and took one last check in the mirror
before going down for breakfast, I imagined how my mother would react to
seeing me. She would probably squint her eyes to see better (she was
always putting off visiting the ophthalmologist), then shake her head, and
then whistle playfully. She would say something embarrassing, something
only mothers can say to their children when they are impressed with them.
And then she would open her arms wide and, being careful not to mess me
up or wrinkle my jacket, she would pull me tenderly to her.
Then I left the bedroom as quickly as possible for fear that my fantasies would go too
far and my eyes would start to water. This has happened several times and it's a struggle
trying to straighten out her face, swollen from crying, was too time-consuming
to allow herself such moments of weakness.
I ate half of my breakfast alone in the kitchen. There, I was usually greeted
by Eugenie, who at that time was rushing to put in the first laundry. There was
Vincent's Star Wars -themed mug in the sink almost every time , proving that
my oldest brother was the first of his siblings to be on his feet. Him or Will, who
often returned from his morning run shortly after the sleepy twins had rolled
down the mountain.
Sometimes I also had the displeasure of encountering Dylan who got up earlier
than me or even Will at least three times a week just to work out at the gym.
In my humble opinion, the Monet brothers couldn't have found a sister more
comfortable to use than me. They didn't have to make sure I did my homework
because I did it myself conscientiously. I didn't occupy their couch or TV
because I simply didn't feel like fighting with them for the console or remote
control, assuming in advance that I would lose. I didn't eat their snacks because
I had no appetite at all for some time and I had to force myself to eat even
basic meals. I didn't ask too many questions, expecting that, as usual, I
wouldn't get comprehensive answers. And when I cried, I did it in the privacy
of my bedroom, late at night, so they didn't have to feel guilty or embarrassed
or embarrassed. So what can I say - I was the perfect sister.
However, my brothers soon learned that ideals do not exist.

It turned out that Shane had boxing practice after school on Mondays and
Wednesdays, and I was usually faced with the choice of either waiting for him
or going home with Dylan and Tony if they happened to arrive in a vehicle I
would be in that day. she could fit with them. The bike was out of the question,
of course, but lately it had been raining more and more often and Tony was
less and less willing to use his helmet.
Shane and I agreed that I would go to the library while training.
I would much rather hide among the bookshelves than endure the company of
my two meanest brothers in such a small, enclosed space as a car. Moreover,
the school library had one very important advantage over the one in the Monet
Residence - the chances were slim that
I'll run into Vincent there. Here, for one hour of class, I could enjoy
freedom.
I usually sat down to do my homework, wrote reviews on bookstagram
or looked for interesting books to borrow. Today I focused on this first
activity and sat down in my favorite place, at a bench hidden between a
row of tall shelves full of outdated, forgotten books. Most of them were
thick tomes with topics too complicated for high school students, so no
one bothered to read them, so I had peace of mind.
That day, however, someone came by and that's how the series of problems I got
into began.
In this particular alley where I was sitting alone, a boy appeared. I
recognized him from some classes, so I knew he was from my age. I
thought I might have had math with him, but I was also sure that we had
taken French classes together because I remembered the last time he
had been quizzed and, to make a long story short, he didn't shine.
I tried to focus on my task, but I couldn't stop myself from glancing at
the boy. I couldn't remember his name, and for some reason I really
wanted to remember. He was looking for something with great care on
the shelf, where there were some thick volumes that no one had ever
read. And he just ran his finger along the dusty spine of one of the
thickest books.
“Hmm,” he muttered to himself, and I became more and more
convinced that he wasn't here to choose what to read.
I decided to ignore him and focus on solving equations, but I was still
aware of his presence. Finally, he obviously got bored with his acting,
because suddenly I heard him say:
- Oh, hello.
I would have rolled my eyes, but I restrained myself because I was

too polite for such gestures, so I just glanced at him and smiled politely.
At least I could finally look at him openly.
- Hello.

Skarb Rodzina Monet Part 1 (001 100)

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Machine Translated by Google

Illustration and cover design: Dixie Leota

Dear Reader, because some of the

© for the text by Weronika Anna Marczak ©

For my beloved parents, whose support is irreplaceable.

For the Readers to whom I owe my dream come true.

9 It's darkest under the lamp

10 Big and loud Dylan

14 The sweetness of chocolate

15 Playing for the highest stakes

20 The difference between a brother and a

parent 21 Nice eyes

23 Beautiful and intelligent

25 Hang in there, young one

What do you think, Hailie?

My heart stopped for a moment and then beat faster. Suddenly my

Soon I was sitting on a plane, heading towards a new reality.

I waited at the baggage belt. When my heavy suitcase arrived, a man I

That's right, I whispered to myself in my head, keeping my head up. Just

Then, next to the window of a world-famous chain of fast food restaurants, I

“ Vince is your legal guardian,” he hurried to explain, as if he had read

with nomenclature, because my knowledge of the automotive industry was

He winked at me sympathetically as he turned off the engine.

Despite my sincere intentions, I couldn't eat everything on my plate because I had

he immediately took them from me, asking me not to bother. However, he

Even if I wanted to comment on it, I wouldn't know how.

The corridor he was talking about looked inconspicuous and suddenly

We then arrived at my assigned bedroom. Along the way, we passed

There will come a time to worry about it.

I peeked out the door into an empty and dark corridor.

I stopped at the threshold. I would expect the living room to be

Okay , Hailie, it's time to speak up.

Oh, so Rapunzel after all. – …

I was silent, trying to remember everything he said in that monotonous

His gaze became even more intense as he waited for

All this was starting to give me a headache. His way of speaking

“ I only have bookstagram,” I said, clearing my throat.

Okay. If it's okay, it's okay.

Vincent's phone vibrated, momentarily drawing his attention.

However, there was one thing I had to ask about.

"Now now now"

I quickly learned that the Monet Mansion was like a field

Her appearance intrigued me because I expected a more formal outfit for a

The woman quickly started showering me with compliments, admiring my

– Apparently they have a difficult accent there – said Eugenie, who

I couldn't imagine any of my brothers driving one

– Are you still snooping? asked Dylan, who seemed to be watching me

He was standing in the corner, where water bottles were arranged in a

I was immediately stressed by the presence of this brother I didn't like

– Will told me to make myself at home, so I'm just looking around. If

– Are you cold?

- A bit. I went for a walk.

that he didn't unnecessarily dwell on my behavior, giving me time to

I continued to think about it as I waited for the water to boil, with a

The novel absorbed me completely and I swallowed every word as if enchanted,

I also felt the pressure of this elegant surroundings influencing my every

“Delicious,” I replied with a shy smile.

– Hailie, why aren't you talking?

- I? "I'm not doing anything," Shane protested, then looked at

– But hey, imagine you are a little girl…

pointedly at Dylan. – Well, I would go crazy.

– I'm almost fifteen.