Ada is the last to arrive at The Nest, her family’s ancestral sprawling estate built high above their vineyard in the Virginia Mountains. Parking her Mercedes sedan in the circular driveway, she gets out and strolls over to the car ahead of her in line—a baby blue Volvo convertible so old it will soon be eligible for antique license plates. The car’s owner is the guest of honor at today’s event. Casey lives here now. With Ada’s father. In Ada’s family’s home.
Security cameras are everywhere, but as far as Ada can tell, no human eyes are watching. A malicious smile spreads across her lips as she drags her apartment key down the side of the Volvo, from the driver’s door to the rear taillight. Dropping the set of keys in her purse, she clicks her stiletto heels together and enters the house, sashaying down the center hallway toward the sound of murmured voices on the bluestone terrace.
Ada joins her two oldest brothers, Hugh and Charles, at the edge of the terrace away from the others. Nearby, a linen-draped banquet table sports champagne flutes and bottles of bubbly chilling in wine buckets. Their family’s cook, Marabella, waits with knife in hand for a signal from Ada’s father to cut the cake. Written in script in pink icing on the chocolate sheet cake is the message Welcome to the Family, Casey.
Across the terrace, Ada’s father huddles with Casey and his youngest son, Ada’s third brother, Sheldon. Casey is a fairytale princess in a bubblegum pink wrap dress with a cascade of golden waves tumbling down her back. The sight of her father’s hand resting on the small of Casey’s back makes Ada’s stomach sour.
Shifting her gaze from her father to his attorney, who is silently observing them from the doorway, Ada shivers. Horace Weaver creeps her out. He knows too much about their family’s business, about the fortune that has passed down for generations. His beady eyes are always watching them, judging them as though deciding whether they’re worthy of their inheritance. As if it’s any of his business.
Ada’s hat flops when she dips her head at the attorney. “Why is he here?”
Hugh shrugs. “Who knows? Dad asked him to come.” He looks at Ada for the first time. “Why are you wearing funeral clothes?” he says about her all-black attire—wide-brimmed sun hat, tailored dress, Christian Louboutin heels.
“I’m in mourning,” Ada says. “Our shares in the Love family fortune are about to shrink.”
“Do you really think she’s Dad’s biological daughter?” Charles asks.
Ada peers at Charles over the top of her designer sunglasses. “Duh. Look at the three of them. Casey is a girl version of Sheldon, who is the spitting image of Dad, aside from a few gray hairs and crow’s feet.”
Hugh nods his agreement. “And they all have the same pale green eyes and cleft chin.”
Truth be told, Ada has the most to worry about regarding the DNA results. Hugh and Charles have the same cleft chin and their mother’s deep blue eyes. Her mother’s dark chocolate hair is the only feature linking Ada to either of her parents.
She remembers her mother’s whispered comments. You’re special, Ada. You’re not like your brothers. One day, when you’re old enough to understand, I’ll explain everything. But her mother never got the chance to explain. She dropped dead from a brain aneurysm when Ada was only fourteen.
Daniel motions for Ada and her brothers to move in closer. “Now that everyone’s here, we can begin. Horace is joining us in an official capacity. I had the results mailed directly to him at his office. I have not seen them.”
“And neither have I.” Horace leaves the doorway and goes to stand beside Daniel. He produces a sealed envelope from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “Do you want to do the honors, or should I?”
“I will.” Daniel takes the envelope, tears it open, and reads the results out loud. “Hugh, match. Charles, match. Sheldon, match. Casey, match.” He smiles over at Casey. “Welcome to the family, my dear.” His eyes return to the paper. “And Ada . . .” His face falls. “Wait a minute. This can’t be right.”
“Give me that.” Ada snatches the results from him and stares in horror at the words written beside her name. No match.
Ada feels eyes on her, burning her skin, waiting for her response. Her chest tightens, and she can’t breathe. Spinning on her heels, she flees the terrace.
Her father’s voice rings out behind her. “Ada! Wait! We’ll do another test.”
But Ada knows it’s pointless. Another test will yield the same results.
Retracing her steps through the house, Ada closes the front door behind her and gulps in air until her breath steadies and the urge to vomit subsides. Stepping away from the house, she stares up at the stone facade of her childhood home. The memories rush back. Only a few are good. Her parents’ stormy marriage put a damper on most of her youth. It dawns on her that her entire life has been based on a lie.
Ada gets in her car and speeds off. Tears blur her vision, and she misjudges the distance of the approaching tractor. She jerks the steering wheel, barely missing the tractor, and careers off the road. She slams on the brakes, and her car sinks into the moist earth.
Enzo hops down from the tractor and hurries to her aid. He knocks on her window. “Ada! Are you okay?”
She rolls down the window. “No, I’m not okay.”
