The Secret Diamond Sisters

“You didn’t let me say goodbye?” She looked at her sisters, unable to believe they could betray her like that.

“None of us were able to say goodbye.” Courtney came over and wrapped an arm around Savannah’s shoulders. “Mom didn’t want us to see her like that. She said it would be easier this way, and you know she hates goodbyes. We just need to focus on being thankful she’s finally getting the treatment she needs.”

“She was probably ashamed, and afraid we would ask her questions she wasn’t ready to answer,” Peyton said. “And she would have been right.”

“But with Mom not here, where are we supposed to go?” Savannah wiped away a tear that had slid down her cheek. She was grateful her mom was getting help, but they still needed her around. Sure, she wasn’t always the best at taking care of them, but she was all they had.

“You know I love you and your sisters, and would be happy for you to live with me if there were no other options,” Grandma said. “But you deserve more than sleeping on the couch and air mattresses in the living room, and I worry about the stress the changes would cause Aunt Sophie. Luckily, your father has generously offered for you to move in with him.”

“Are you serious?” Savannah didn’t believe this. She and her sisters had never met their father. And now he was offering for them to move in with him? “Why now? I thought it wasn’t safe for us to be around him? And where does he even live?”

Mr. Webster was the one to answer. “Mr. Diamond asked me to provide as little information as possible, because he wants to personally answer your questions, but I can assure you that your safety is his top priority. He’s sending a driver to pick you up tomorrow morning who will take you to the airport. I know this is short notice to give you girls to pack, but do what you can and Mr. Diamond will arrange for the rest of your belongings to be brought to your new accommodations at a later date.”

A plane. Which meant if it took her mom longer than a few weeks to get better, Savannah would start her sophomore year at a new school, with people she’d never met. How was she going to break this to Evie? And how would she get through school without her best friend by her side?

“What if we don’t want to go?” Peyton crossed her arms and glared at Mr. Webster. “I’m almost eighteen, you know. I should have a say in this.” Peyton’s birthday was in March, which hardly made her “almost eighteen,” but Savannah kept her mouth shut.

“As it is now, you’re still a minor, so you have no choice,” Mr. Webster said. “With your mother unfit, it is in your father’s rights to insist you live under his care. You will pack your bags and be ready to leave by ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“What about the apartment?” Courtney asked. “What will happen to it while we’re gone?”

“Mr. Diamond will make sure it’s maintained,” Mr. Webster said. “I’m sorry to throw this on you all at once. I know this won’t be easy for the three of you, but he will answer all your questions when you arrive. Now, I imagine you need time to pack. Is there anything more you want to ask?”

“I think you have it covered, Mr. Webster.” Grandma spoke for them. “Now if you wouldn’t mind, I would like some time with my granddaughters.”

“Of course.” He nodded and let himself out.

“You can’t expect us to do this,” Peyton said to Grandma once he was gone. “All my life you’ve said our father is dangerous and he doesn’t want us around. Now we’re expected to forget all that and move in with him? I won’t do it. I refuse.”

“Your mother has her reasons for wanting to distance herself from your father, and while being around him can be dangerous for those close to him, he’s not a bad man,” Grandma said. “He’ll explain it all to you once he meets you. Just remember that your mother loved him once, and while it won’t be easy, I hope the three of you can find it in your hearts to give him a chance. Can you promise to do that? For me?”

When she put it like that, it was impossible to say no. “Okay.” Savannah nodded, trying to swallow away the lump in her throat. “I’ll try.”

Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket, and she took it out to check the text. It was from Evie.

Any luck convincing one of your sisters to drive you tonight?

Savannah stared blankly at the beat-up flip phone. The plans she’d made with Evie less than an hour ago felt like they’d happened in another life. She couldn’t wrap her mind around what she’d just learned, let alone tell someone else, even if that someone was her best friend.

Can’t go tonight. Something big happened. Not ready to talk about it yet but I’ll call you when I am <3

She pressed Send, then dropped her phone in her bag, not wanting to look at it again that night.

* * *

The next morning, they lugged their bags outside and tearfully hugged Grandma goodbye. The stretch limo that pulled up in front of their apartment looked foreign amongst the beat-up cars lining their street, and the sight of it sent Savannah’s ideas of who her father was out the window. He couldn’t be a homeless drugged-out loser if he’d sent a limo to pick them up.

As of last night, the most expensive car Savannah had ever been in was the Volkswagen Jetta Evie’s mom drove when she brought them home from volleyball practice or to the mall. Now, she climbed into the sleek limo, her fingers grazing the soft leather of the wraparound seat. Lights lined the ceiling, and there was a wooden minibar across from the long side of the seat, an open bottle of champagne chilling in the ice bucket and three glasses on display. The label on the champagne read Dom Pérignon, and while Savannah had never tasted Dom before, she recognized it as a pricey drink from the television shows she watched.

She wasn’t hugely into drinking, because she’d seen first-hand how destructive alcohol could be, but she wasn’t a prude, either. She didn’t want to be “that lame girl” at the party who refused to drink. And now she had the opportunity to taste Dom Pérignon! Her friends would be so envious when they found out. It was the sort of drink she imagined she would get to try if her dreams ever came true and she became a famous pop star. One glass wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“Don’t even think about it,” Courtney warned as Savannah reached for the bottle.

“But it’s Dom Pérignon.” Savannah hated when Courtney tried to boss her around. They were only eleven months apart, but Courtney was so responsible all the time. It made the gap feel wider. “It’s probably hundreds of dollars for this bottle. We have to try it.”

“I’m not trying anything he buys for us.” Peyton scrunched her nose and plugged her headphones into her ears.

Knowing Courtney wouldn’t physically stop her for fear of making a mess, Savannah poured herself a glass and took a sip, the tiny bubbles gliding down her throat. Dom Pérignon was better than anything she’d ever tasted. But there was that little voice in the back of her head, warning her that drinking in the morning was something her mom would do. Savannah cleared this up with her conscience by reminding herself that if her mom were here, she would finish the bottle. Savannah was only having one glass, and only to taste it.

She felt so sophisticated with her drink, and wished she’d worn something dressier than the dark jeans and pink tunic top she’d bought at Forever 21 a few weeks ago. She’d thought it looked good when she’d put it on this morning, but she hardly looked like the type of person who arrived at the airport in a limo.

But there was nothing she could do about it now.

She looked at Courtney and Peyton, sitting in the front-facing seat, and wondered how they didn’t share her amazement that they were in the back of a limo. Courtney’s long blond hair had dried into natural waves—the kind Savannah wished she had—and she was staring out the window, her chin balanced in her hand as she watched the scenery. She kept biting her thumbnail—a giveaway that she was nervous, which made Savannah feel on-edge, too. Courtney never had a problem handling everything thrown her way—school, keeping the apartment clean, taking extra shifts at work to pay the bills and making sure Savannah got her homework done. While the bossiness got annoying sometimes, Savannah didn’t know what she would do without her.

Peyton slumped in her seat, her headphones plugged into her ears and huge dark sunglasses covering her eyes. She had pulled the hood of her black terry-cloth jacket over her head midway through the ride, and her long, light brown hair with the occasional streak of blue fell over her shoulders. Savannah hated the blue streaks. Why her sister would want to look like a freak was beyond her. Not that Peyton would listen to Savannah’s opinion.

Getting the vibe that neither of her sisters felt like talking, Savannah looked out the window. They drove past some small run-down apartment buildings and entered the highway. They passed by tons of vineyards, the grape vines bright green and alive under the hot July sun. Where were they heading? Last she’d heard, her father lived in Las Vegas, but it had been fifteen years since her mother had left him—right after she got pregnant with Savannah. He could be anywhere now.

It wasn’t like he’d bothered to contact them. They didn’t even know his first name. Savannah always assumed he was incapable of taking care of them, but if he could afford a limo, why hadn’t he made an effort to get to know his own daughters? To acknowledge their existence? He was only interested in them now because he had no other choice. Savannah’s eyes watered as she realized again how alone she and her sisters were, and she took a sip of champagne to force away the tears. She and her sisters had plenty of differences, but at least no matter what was coming next, they would have each other.

Courtney must have noticed how Savannah had tensed up, because she looked at her and forced a smile. “How does it taste?” she asked, motioning to the champagne.

“It’s good,” Savannah replied. “Are you sure you don’t want some? We probably won’t have an opportunity to taste something as expensive as this ever again.” She took another sip, relishing the citrusy taste. She’d bet the champagne cost more than the Longchamp bag Evie had just gotten for her birthday. Savannah wished she had a phone that could send picture texts, so she could show Evie and some of the other girls from the team what she was drinking. They would be so jealous.

“I’m sure.” Courtney shook her head. “It’s first thing in the morning, and the champagne isn’t even ours.”

Savannah shrugged at Courtney’s goody-goody attitude and looked over at Peyton, who was lost in iPod land and ignoring her.

Savannah decided to change that. She lifted the half-filled glass to her lips and threw her head back, taking a large gulp. It fizzed going down her throat, the liquid swirling in her stomach as it made its way down.

“Getting drunk first thing in the morning?” Peyton removed one of her earbuds and dropped it onto her lap. “You’ll end up like Mom.”

“Is that necessary?” The harshness in Courtney’s usually calm voice took Savannah by surprise. “Mom messed up, but she tried. Don’t be so hard on her. But Peyton’s right,” she said, refocusing on Savannah. “You shouldn’t be drinking—not after everything with Mom. I know you think she doesn’t care about what you do, but she wouldn’t want you to repeat her mistakes.”

“I’m not like Mom,” Savannah insisted. “I only wanted a glass. I mean, it’s Dom Pérignon. Do you know how many people would kill to try this? Besides, Mom would have finished the bottle by now.”

“She would have,” Peyton agreed—which surprised Savannah, because Peyton never agreed with anything she said. “Which made it real easy for our nonexistent father to take us away from home without giving us any say.”

“The nonexistent father who she led us to believe was a homeless drug addict,” Savannah said. “Which he clearly isn’t. Not if he can afford all this. I know it’s a long shot, but maybe...”

“Don’t tell me you’re wishing he’s that big-time hotel owner again,” Peyton said. “Just because he rented a limo to get us doesn’t mean anything. He wasted all this money trying to impress us, and it won’t make me like him after he ignored us for our whole lives. Besides, you know there are seventy-five people with the last name of Diamond in Las Vegas—”

“And twenty thousand in America.” Savannah cut her off, imitating her sister’s superior tone. “I know this. You’ve told me a million times. But it would be cool if he was.”

Okay, it would be more than cool if her father was the Adrian Diamond—the one who owned numerous hotels in Las Vegas and had more money than Savannah could imagine. The life she could have then would be beyond her wildest dreams.

It would be like living in a Las Vegas fairy tale.