Payback by Sofia Daniel

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I scrolled through the fake texts. Whoever had impersonated me had taken phrases I had used in previous texts to Mom and changed things up a word here and there to suit the situation. The imposter had presented him or herself as someone who had immediately made friends within Mercia Academy and was too busy catching up with subjects such as Latin and Classical Greek to return to New York for the holidays or to meet Mom in London.

The piano paused to a smattering of applause, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Whoever had impersonated me had even taken photos of a bedroom, shopping sprees, stacks of books, parks, and British meals with quippy messages about toad in the hole, cock-a-leekie soup, and spotted dick. The skin around my eyes heated, and my insides felt as though they’d been scraped out by Rudolph’s grasping, wrinkled, liver-spotted hands. This was probably the work of an enthusiastic, young intern.

“I sent you phone calls and texts.” My voice broke. “All this time, I thought you were too caught with in being Mrs. Trommel to bother with me.”

Her jeweled hand reached across the table and covered mine. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but no matter who I marry, you’ll always come first.”

A lump formed in my throat. When we were young, it was just her and me, living in that cramped Brooklyn apartment. Mom would leave me with a neighbor whenever she was lucky enough to get modeling work. But it had been fun. Mrs. Williams had daughters my age, and I had loved the sleepovers. I’d never felt neglected until she had married and decided to send me to an exclusive prep school.

The piano restarted, ending the silence, but the melodic sounds did nothing to soothe my nerves.

“Are you sure you sent them to me?” Mom asked in a voice as soft as a hug. “My number hasn’t changed.”

Rudolph must have gotten one of his minions to change the number I had for Mom on my phone to make it look like she wasn’t communicating with me. His home was full of servants. One of them could have snuck into my room while I was asleep or in the shower and done the deed.

“It’s an impostor,” I whispered.

Mom’s lips turned down. “I traveled down to Mercia in October and spoke to the headmaster, but he told me you were on a school trip.”

A pang of sadness struck my heart. I reached for the napkin and twisted its ends, anything to distract me from the oncoming tears. Maybe she thought I was lying to cover up having snubbed her all year. It was as though she couldn’t believe anyone would go so far to impersonate me, and she was scrabbling for other explanations. After the events of this term and the last, I was willing to believe anything of Rudolph. Mom had probably only seen his charming side.

The waiter strode out from beside the bar and took our orders. As soon as he left, I turned my attention back to Mom. “I didn’t send any of these texts.”

Her brows drew together. “They sounded like the kind of things you would say.” In a smaller voice, she added, “I wondered if you resented me for not insisting that you stayed in New York.”

My shoulders drooped, and I slumped into my seat. I had resented her for a lot of things, but it had been my decision to go to England, even though I had secretly wished she had seen through Rudolph’s attempt to keep us apart by sending me abroad.

With a long sigh, I said, “Someone’s put a wedge between us, and I think I know who.”

“Rudolph,” she snapped.