The morning air shimmered with the brightness that promised a scorching noon. The Shepherd mansion was alive with its controlled chaos, nannies zipping back and forth with lunch boxes, the faint clatter of dishes being cleared from breakfast, and the sound of Mara's voice calling for shoes, bags, "Where's Andrew's bottle? No, the blue one!"
She was dressed in a crisp cream blouse tucked into high-waisted trousers, hair swept up in a loose knot that made her look every bit the composed woman she fought to be. But inside was a storm.
Her brothers gathered at the front steps, each holding something absurdly expensive for the twins. Stanford with two tiny diamond-studded wristwatches, why, Standford, why?, Stanley with a pair of gold-trimmed leather school bags, Stefan handing them little good luck charms shaped like hearts and stars, and Steve, who gave his gifts a day before.
