Quincy, for once, seemed to care—at least on the surface. As they got into the car, he spoke casually, as if it were nothing.
“Tomorrow’s Pearl’s birthday party. You’ll attend with me. Don’t forget to prepare a gift.”
Alannah looked out the window, her voice even. “I don’t want to go.”
Quincy’s face darkened instantly, and the air in the car turned heavy.
He turned his head toward her, his eyes sharp and glinting coldly behind his gold-rimmed glasses.
“I’m not asking, Alannah. You’re going. Otherwise…” His lips curved faintly. “…your mother’s ashes.”
Alannah’s head snapped toward him, disbelief and fury flooding her face.
“For god’s sake, Quincy, isn’t it enough that my mother’s already gone? You’d threaten me with her ashes, too, now?”
Her voice trembled, her eyes glistening red despite her efforts to hold back.
He frowned, his tone laced with irritation. “Don’t cry. Your tears don’t work on me.”
Alannah wiped the tear from the corner of her eye, her voice calm again.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
At the birthday dinner, Quincy hovered around Pearl like a shadow—pouring her drinks, draping his coat over her shoulders, looking at her with a tenderness that could melt a heart.