“Clyde Mather wasn’t Aspen’s biological father,” I glance around at everyone’s curious expressions until I finally say the last two words. “I am.”
“You are her father?” Nathaniel sputters, looking just as shocked as the rest of the founding members.
I look over at Aspen to find her staring at me with her mouth gaping open and her eyes wide as can be. For a second, I regret not telling her in private, but the truth is, I didn’t know how, or maybe I was just too much of a coward.
“Yes. Aspen is my biological daughter,” I state firmly while looking into pale blue eyes so similar to mine. “Nic is her uncle, and though we agree she has broken the rule, we are also willing to rectify her action in another way. My family is willing to offer you part of our territory.”
“That won’t bring my son back.”
“Neither will killing her,” Nic speaks up for the first time, his voice deep and penetrating as always. His dark hair is slicked back, and his features weathered, but still, he looks as dangerous as ever. They don’t call my brother the devil for nothing. “But letting her live will give you and your other children peace of mind.”
“Peace of mind?” Nathaniel scoffs.
“Yes, because it means that I won’t come after your family for killing the heir of the Rossi empire,” Xander adds casually, though everyone knows his threat is taken very seriously.
“And what about the rest of you?” Nathaniel addresses the founding members. “Do you think we should let her live? How would that look to the rest of the students and their parents?”
“This is a blind vote,” I explain. “No one has to tell you what they are voting for.”
“I guess then there is only one thing left to do. Let’s vote.” Nathaniel leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Let’s begin.” I nod and push myself up from my chair. I grab the large metal bowl from the display case hanging on the wall. “If you agree to let Aspen live, simply write an L on the paper. If you think her punishment should be death, write an X on the paper.”
Walking around the table, I let each founding member pull out a piece of paper to write their vote on. When I move around the second time, everyone throws their folded-up paper back in. With each step, the bowl feels heavier in my arms, though I know its weight is insignificant. The papers inside should add no weight, but each feels like an extra twenty pounds.
Returning to my seat, I dump all the papers out, showing everyone the empty bowl. One by one, I unfold each paper, and with each sight of the L scribbled down, I can breathe a little easier.
By the time we have only two left, sweat drips down my forehead, and it takes all my concentration to go at an even pace and not tear the last papers apart.
The ninth paper reads an L. Only one left. This is it. The last vote.
I unfold the tenth paper, holding my breath.
L, it’s an L.
I huff out the air in my lungs as relief crashes down on me like a tidal wave. We did it. Aspen is safe.
The room clears quickly, with Nathaniel practically running out like he can’t get away fast enough. He throws one more glare at Aspen, but she looks too much in shock to notice.
“Aspen.” Quinton takes her arm gently.
“I think I might be in shock.” Aspen gasps softly.
“You’re safe now. It’s all over,” Quinton assures her, but she doesn’t look convinced yet.
“Aspen. Are you all right?” Xander steps next to Aspen’s chair, handing her a glass of water. “I suppose anyone could be excused for feeling overwhelmed at a time like this.”
“Thank you.” She grabs the water with a trembling hand.
“We do what needs doing for one of our own,” Xander tells her.
I give Aspen a few more minutes to gather herself while I run through the speech I have been memorizing all day.
I’m just about to get her attention when she looks directly into my eyes. Determination forms in her gaze, and she suddenly stands. Quinton wraps an arm around her waist like he wants to lead her away. That’s my cue. I clear my throat. “Can I have a minute with you?”
Aspen exchanges a look with Quinton and nods. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up to you.”
Then we’re alone. It’s not the first time we’ve been alone, but today feels different because today is different. She takes a seat again. I choose to stand for a little bit longer. I don’t know where to start, whatever I had thought about before is gone, so I say the only thing that comes to my mind. “I hope you don’t hate me for blurting that out in front of everyone.”