It would take a family emergency to bring me back here so soon, Genie thought, looking up at her family's sprawling mansion.
The Von Windenburg Estate, Genie reflected, had been rebuilt by her great-grandfather, the banking magnate Baron Henry Von Windenburg, after the original manor was destroyed during the Second Great War. The Von Windenburgs had been a prominent and wealthy family, and their money had bought power far in excess of the relatively minor noble title they had purchased sometime during the Renaissance.
Genie supposed her mother was doing a pretty good job of ruthlessly preserving the family's wealth and power, if not the noble title. Though she'd never met him, Genie felt her great-grandfather surely would have approved. She was also pretty sure she wouldn't have liked the man.
She certainly hated the house he'd built.
"Welcome back, Ms. Genevieve," Stephens greeted her. "Your return is most timely and appreciated."
The family butler, Stephens was the only living person Genie allowed to call her Genevieve without correcting them. A fixture of the household, he was trained in the old traditions of service. He handled the cooking and cleaning, greeted guests, and oversaw the house and the staff of maids and gardeners who came in daily. The man (though her sister Blair, or maybe Debra, occasionally claimed he was actually a robot) was tireless, always proper and usually unflappable.
Genie was surprised to see strong emotion pushing past Stephens's facade.
"Kassidy called me," Genie said by way of explanation.
"Very good," Stephens said with visible relief.
"Stephens, what's happened?" Genie asked. "Kassidy wasn't able to explain much on the phone."
"Ms. Kassidy has suffered a tragedy," Stephens explained. "A recent but, I gather, significant friend of hers has been cruelly and violently taken. She is in need of comfort and support, beyond what I am able to offer."
"Where are the others?" Genie asked.
"Your sisters, Ms. Blair and Ms. Debra, are still at university and, to my knowledge, are unaware of Ms. Kassidy's troubles," Stephens said. "With the Houses in session, Representative Elderberry is staying in the legislative apartments at the Palace, in order to have close access to his staff."
"What's this one's name?" Genie mused, half to herself. Stephens graciously declined to acknowledge her interruption.
"Mrs. Elderberry is in the library," Stephens concluded in tones so empty of emotion that Genie was struck by the butler's furious outrage at her mother's failure to comfort Kassidy.
"Well, no need to disturb her," Genie replied, struggling to keep her own outrage in check.
Really, she shouldn't have been surprised. Her mom's response to almost any difficulty was to paste on a false smile ("You mustn't be so emotional, Genevieve") and carry on ("You must be strong, Genevieve"). Even the death of Grand-père Jacques hadn't caused to her to so much as mess up her flawless mascara ("My father never approved of weeping, Genevieve").
"I'll go up and see Kassidy," Genie said, shaking herself out of her thoughts.
With any luck, Genie thought, I can talk to Kassidy, and mom won't even know I'm here.
"Genevieve, I wasn't expecting you," Luna Elderberry's voice cut through her like a knife.
I should have touched wood, Genie groaned inwardly. "It's Genie, mom."
"Well, it is good to see you, dear," Luna said, giving her an oddly cold and emotionless kiss on the cheek. "Though we ought to get you some better clothes and really, there must be something you can do about your hair, Genevieve."
"I am not here to talk about clothes or my hair, mom." Genie forced her hands to not reflexively try to smooth her unruly curls. "I'm here to see Kassidy."
"Oh," Luna replied dismissively. "That's nice, dear."
"She called me in tears!" Genie snapped. "She's lost a friend and she's devastated. She needs some support, some comfort. Maybe even some love. I'm sure you've read about love somewhere!"
"There is no reason to take that tone with me, young lady," Luna snapped back. "What Kassidy needs is to be strong and confident... and to recognize that associating with certain types will only bring her grief."
"Associating with certain..." Genie rocked back, staggered by her mom's sheer audacity. "You associate with criminals! You launder money for gangsters! Grand-père Jacques was a gangster! Uncle Max is a gangster... a gangster who shot me!"
"Really dear, I had some very stern words with your Uncle Max about that, and he assures me he wasn't aiming at you," Luna said firmly.
"Well that makes the bullet wound in my arm feel so much better, mom," Genie snarled.
"This just proves my point, dear," Luna continued. "Associating with people like Claudette Faust, or Blackwood or whatever she calls herself these days, or especially people like Shannon Charm, only leads to pain and grief."
"I can't... I can't even talk to you," Genie huffed. "I'm going up to see my little sister, who needs me. Goodbye."
"Hey there kiddo," Genie said.
After taking a moment to calm down (her mother always got under her skin), she'd found Kassidy in her room.
That room had changed since she'd last been in it. The toys and stuffed animals that had fueled the vibrant imagination of the youngest Elderberry girl were still there, but in the years since Genie had left for university, Kassidy had added posters about music and environmentalism. Glancing with a reporter's curiosity at Kassidy's desk, Genie saw books on politics, environmentalism, and art among high school textbooks, teen magazines and her little sister's favorite children's books.
It was as if the room itself, like the grief-stricken teen standing in the middle of it, was balanced between childhood and maturity.
"Genie," Kassidy sobbed softly. "Oh, Genie."
"I'm here, kiddo," Genie said, pulling her sister into a hug. "I'm here."
"It's so awful," Kassidy sobbed.
"You want to talk to me?" Genie prompted gently. "It might help."
"She's dead, Genie," Kassidy gasped, as if saying it out loud horrified her. "Shannon's dead. Someone... someone killed her."
"Tell me about Shannon," Genie said, trying to draw her out.
"Shannon's the best," Kassidy sighed, then corrected herself. "Shannon was the best. She's... she was brilliant and cool and she is... was... so dedicated to the environment."
"How did you meet her?" Genie asked. "At school?"
"No, Shannon's older," Kassidy said. "Like, your age, I think. I met her at Speak for the Trees. You know, the environmental defense group?"
"Yeah, I've heard of them," Genie said, trying to hide a slight smile.
She was sure her mom was thrilled that Kassidy was getting involved in political causes that were directly and vocally in opposition to Rep. Elderberry's right-wing Axis party. That made two of the four Elderberry girls standing up against their father's politics (if Debra or Blair had any interest in politics of any kind, they hadn't mentioned it to Genie).
"Well, Shannon's an organizer for the local chapter," Kassidy continued. "Her and her boyfriend, Knox. That's how I met her. She has... she had... so much passion. 'Don't let anyone tell you you can't change the world. We change the world every day with our will and our words' she'd say."
"She sounds cool," Genie said. "Actually, she sounds a little like my friend Miranda... who is also very cool."
"Shannon's the best," Kassidy said. "She was the best. Oh... oh Genie..."
Tears slipped freely down Kassidy's face, the unashamed grief of youth.
"I know, kiddo," Genie sighed. "I know. It's hard to lose someone."
She didn't really know, Genie admitted to herself. Other than Grand-père Jacques, the only person she'd ever lost like this had been an ex-boyfriend, and the narcissistic scumbag had been handing Genie over to be killed at the time. She admitted to herself that she'd mourned Johnny Pretty, probably more than he deserved, but she was sure it had been nothing like what Kassidy was feeling.
"She's really gone. I just can't believe she's really gone," Kassidy was saying. "Oh... oh, what about Knox? I wonder how he's doing."
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