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CHAPTER 7

Amber Marigold

***

The board was set, the pieces aligned, and Amber waited for her opponent to make the first move.

It had become routine to wake up at 5 a.m. Tying her running shoes, she watched the chess set on her desk. Five days had passed since that night, and Aunt Tessa was still recovering at the hospital. Though Jessy took the news hard, Amber came clean about everything, from the unknown number to the bet. She knew keeping secrets was just a dumb plot device for drama shows.

Dressed and her hair braided, Amber snuck downstairs. She kept her phone's map app at the ready, plugged in her earphones, and with 80s music blasting, headed out for a jog.

A deep blue inked the sky, and the girl's breath was a puff of vapour. She ran North this time, sick of all the white-barked trees and curious to see the spruce forest. Minutes passed and soon, so did the birch. She crossed an old stone bridge, wide enough for one vehicle, with a small river trickling beneath. The further she went, the more trees replaced houses. Birds roused from their sleep, and the scent of musky spruce welcomed her pleasantly.

When the sun started to rise, Amber accidentally took a left turn that would lead her to a dead end. Up the road, a large iron gate stood guard. She knew better than to go near private property in this town. Instead, the girl took a moment to catch her breath. Tall trees around inspired a painting of emerald, basil, and sage greens. Bluebell flowers sprinkled their azure and indigos across the dark earth, and she crouched down to memorise the details. Shy sunlight kisses. Delicate dewdrop jewels. Once her eyes gulped in enough colours to use for later, she pulled herself up and returned to the house with the ridiculous blue roof.

Amber walked into the kitchen, out of breath, and chugged a glass of water. She took a boiling hot shower, enjoying the burn of her skin, and dressed in a presentable outfit. At almost 7 AM, she went back downstairs to look for breakfast. Aunt Tessa was not there to cook, so microwaved leftover pizza it was.

Jessy came trudging downstairs, wiping the sleep from her eyes. She was still in her pyjamas, a purple set with fluffy white clouds.

"You went jogging this morning," she said.

"Yup."

"Even on Sundays?"

"Even on Sundays."

Amber had been lazy for too long.

"Don't you have to meet your lawyer about bank stuff? It's the thirtieth, isn't it?" Jessy yawned over the sound of the microwave.

"Yeah. Mister Lium's picking me up any moment."

"Oh, cool." Jessy sat down. "Hey, your lawyer's pretty good, isn't he? Could you ask him if he'd be willing to represent me in court after I murder Blake and Owen?"

Amber smiled as she joined her cousin at the table, setting down their breakfast. "Nah, he'll have his hands full after I slaughter those idiots. They'll pay for that bet," she joked, taking a big bite. "I do want to ask him about the unknown number, though."

Not much later, a honk sounded from outside. Amber scarfed down her breakfast, greeted her cousin, and ran out. Mr Lium was waiting in a slick silver car, opening the door from inside.

"Hey, long time no see, Mister Lium," Amber said, getting in.

Gale Lium was a stern-looking man in his forties with a proud back and prominent jaw. He smelled like soap, and the girl always appreciated a good suit on a man.

"Hello, Little Miss. You have the documents I sent?"

"Yup, right here."

Mr Lium took the envelope from her, briskly scanning through the papers inside, and left it on the backseat.

"Hey, Mister Lium?" Amber asked as he started the car.

"Yes?"

"You wouldn't happen to be texting me on another number?"

"No, why would I?"

"Oh."

A dead end, Amber thought. He could have been lying, but nothing about his reaction suggested it.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Nah, it's nothing." She adjusted her seat back. "Oh, before I forget, I have to ask you to wire me my allowance next time. What am I supposed to do with twenty thousand euros in cash?"

Mister Lium laughed, showing off a row of perfectly white teeth contrasted by his dark skin.

"I suppose that would be better," he teased. "But you never know when having cash on hand could be useful. Come, buckle up. We've got a long ride ahead," he added before they were off.

It was no exaggeration. The bank they headed to was in the city where Amber grew up, and it was an eight-hour drive away. She dozed off after a while and only woke once they arrived. It was already 3 PM, and the girl squinted in the bright sunlight.

At the bank, all it took was Amber's full name before the staff went from polite to overly attentive. The girl was offered something to drink at least a dozen times while signing forms. She went over boring legal matters with her lawyer's help, and desperately wanted to take another nap.

"So, would you like to see it?"

Amber looked up, lost.

"What?"

The banker licked his lips nervously. He was middle-aged and looked worn with worry, glasses constantly slipping.

"I asked if you would like to see the second vault, Miss Marigold," he repeated, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing.

"Second vault?"

"Y-yes."

Mr Lium turned to Amber and said, "The will states that you inherit everything. But there is a clause specifying that your family's personal vault can only be accessed if or when you are married. Mister Figler here asked if you would like to see the vault and know the amount."

"Is that allowed?" she asked. "Walking into a bank's vault?"

"It's a personal vault kept in this bank," Mr Liam clarified.

"Still," she pressed. "Can people do that?"

"You can."

"Well, uh... alright."

They got up from their seats in the private conference room and headed to the elevator, where the banker typed in a code. Security procedures went on forever and four personal guards were assigned to them. Watchful eyes stuck to Amber like oil paint. They passed many more armed guards and the bank's main vault before reaching the personal vault at the end of the dark grey hallway. The girl gulped at its size. After another lengthy list of security measures, it was finally accessed, the heavy steel door slowly swinging open.

Golden light slipped past the first crack, growing across the marble floor as the room opened. It reached and slithered across them, flushing everyone in that warm yellow hue. Amber gaped. She took a step back.

"Is this a joke?"

"No," Mr Lium answered.

"This... this is all mine?"

"Once you're married, this will be added to your already generous inheritance, yes."

What lay inside the vault was a mountain of cash unlike anything Amber had ever seen. Bricks upon bricks of money. And it was all dwarfed by the two dozen tall shelves of gold bars surrounding the room. In the low-lit atmosphere, the gold gleamed. Light bounced across the floor, the walls, the money. Was it even legal for one vault to keep so much?

"How... how much is it?" Amber asked.

The banker cleared his throat.

"About two billion euros."

Her blood chilled.

"This... this is too much," she said, taking another step back but unable to turn her eyes away. "How can my parents have this much? This isn't..."

Amber knew her family was well off. Growing up in a rather large estate and with extravagant parties frequently hosted, she was accustomed to money. Even so, this... This was insane.

"They had really good life insurance," Mr Lium said plainly.

A nervous laugh drew from her lips.

"Did they now?" she asked, knowing full well it could not possibly be the case.

Amber had not pressed Mr Lium about the money. It was going to be kept in the vault until she got married anyway, so the girl decided to leave future problems to her future self. There were more immediate concerns.

Monday, the following morning, Amber would make her first move. After taking the previous week easy to account for blood loss, she was more than prepared to face everyone. She returned from a jog as usual but received a text this time.

Mr President
Wear something nice today.
06:30

Amber
Are you a friend or a foe?
06:34

When Mr President did not respond, Amber closed the message with a sigh. The weather was looking better, so she took the number's advice. Thus far, it did not hurt listening to this person. She dressed in a casual vintage sundress with ankle boots and, of course, her favourite jacket. The girl was not as good with makeup as her cousin but added lip gloss for good measure.

When she came to the kitchen, Uncle Anton had returned from his night shift, and Jessy already made her dad some toast.

"Any news about Mother figure?" she asked.

Uncle Anton plopped down by the kitchen island, one hand reaching out to poke the yellow flowers on display.

"The new doctor assigned to her said she'll get discharged this weekend and then put on bed rest for a couple of months," he answered tiredly. "Her co-workers sent petunia flowers this morning with a note telling her to take her time and rest up."

Amber hardened her jaw, and her brows slowly came together. On the surface, it was a typical gift for a co-worker, but the girl knew better. The police were telling her aunt not to come back at all. Bastards.

Without much further conversation, the girls headed off to school. It did not surprise Amber to see Blake and Owen's cars in the parking lot. Though she had not seen them since the bet was made, she figured they would show up after Mr President's text.

"You ready for this?" Jessy asked as they parked.

"More than ready," Amber answered and got out.

The girls walked to the building with their heads held high. Inside, a commotion went on. Kids were chattier than usual, and a sense of excitement floated around.

"What's going on?" Amber asked.

"Cam's probably handing out invites to another party."

"Cam? Who's that?"

"Hey, new girl!"

At the call, Amber turned around. Four girls stood facing her.

"Me?" she asked.

"You're the new girl, right?" the girl with glasses asked.

"Well, yeah. I guess."

"Is it true that Blake dragged you out of class last week?" another chipped in, her brows set in a scowl.

"That's ancient history," Amber joked.

"Oh, is that so? Your full name is Amber Marigold, right?" the girl with straight black hair and tanned skin asked.

She knows my full name, Amber noted. There was a chance Mr President could be a Ms President.

"Not today, Camila," Jessy interrupted.

"Jessica," Tanned Girl said with a clipped smile, "as lovely as it is to catch up, we're talking to Amber."

Jessy rolled her eyes and Amber was unsure what to think.

"You haven't introduced yourselves," she said. It was only polite, and Amber found it annoying to think of them as Tanned Girl, Nerdy Girl, Rude Girl and Quiet Fourth Wheel Girl.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Tanned Girl apologised, turning back to Amber. "Where are my manners? I'm Camila Pesso, but you can call me Cam. My friend over here is Jude. The brains of the group is Lovebird. And the boring one is Jane."

Amber knew her chances of remembering names. Alright, she thought. It's Tan Cam, Rude Jude, Nerdy Birdy and Plain Jane.

"Hello," she greeted.

"Oh, we don't mean to pry, but is it true that after Blake left you dry at the docks last week, you went with Owen?" Tan Cam asked.

Theory A, Tan Cam will start every sentence with an 'oh'.

"Well, I'd say he left me wet," Amber joked but cursed herself after hearing the words out loud. "I— I mean, it was raining, you see," she fumbled. "So, that's why I was wet... From being outside in the downpour. Anyway, yeah, that sounds about right."

Jessy coughed, and Amber elbowed her cousin in the side.

"Oh, that's juicy!" Tan Cam said.

Theory A is proven correct.

"You must feel pretty special, ha?" Rude Jude asked, coiling a lock of dark hair around her finger as she scoped Amber out.

"It can't possibly last long, though," Nerdy Birdy added.

Plain Jane stayed quiet.

Something about that fourth girl nagged at Amber. With dull hair and a common face, she was unnervingly forgettable.

Jessy pulled at Amber's jacket to leave, but Tan Cam spoke up.

"Oh, before I forget, Amber. You are coming to my party, right? It's this Friday. Double fours."

"Double fours?"

"She likes throwing parties when the month and day's numbers match," Jessy explained. "Last one was the third of March."

"Got it."

"So, are you coming?" Tan Cam pressed, her dark eyes drilling into Amber eagerly. "It's on Jane's yacht, but it'll stay docked."

Ah, Plain Jane is rich, Amber thought. Poor girl was likely getting used for her money.

"Of course, she'll be there," Rude Jude grinned. "It's on neutral ground, so there's a chance Blake or Owen could show up."

Amber was initially going to reject the offer, but it just became an interesting scenario. She said she would think about it and left the girls with a polite goodbye. Walking away, her cousin snickered.

"So, Blake left you wet, ey?"

"Shut up. You know what I meant."

"It's okay, Couz'. I know you're awkward sometimes."

The girls attended homeroom, and Amber had to psych herself up for first period. She knew Blake would be at English. The teacher, Mr Dietrich, greeted her shyly. But after allowing her to get kidnapped, no amount of apologetic looks could sway her. The man was rather attractive with hazel hair and a dimple whenever he smiled, could even have been a model. Most of the girls treated him like he was. But the man was number four on her list of people she would like to dunk in a trashcan.

"Hi, Miss Marigold, I would just like to—"

"No," Amber said as she passed his desk.

Instead of sitting at the front, she picked a seat at the back with a perfectly suboptimal view of Mr Dietrich's bothersome face. Screw Mr Model Teacher, she thought. Not literally, though.

Halfway through reading The Great Gatsby, Blake Moreno Bowmen strolled into class. The memory of the previous week shot through Amber like a magnum. The bet. The police. Her Aunt. She clenched her thumbs. These idiots thought they could do as they pleased.

Well, she thought, they have no idea what's coming.

So, when Blake sauntered over to Amber and sat at the desk next to her, the girl simply handed him a dazzling smile.

"Good morning," she said, turning a page as the class resumed.

"Well, hello, Cariño. Why are you in such a splendid mood?"

The girl saw Blake's simper for what it was. A poor attempt to seduce the dumb blonde. It was the opening move to this game, and she was disappointed with the choice. How boringly predictable, she thought. Classic pawn to E4. A book move and nothing else.

"Today's a really good day," she answered wistfully.

"How so?"

The corner of her mouth twitched. She pasted on her brightest smile yet and made her move. It was only a pawn as well, but she matched her enemy's attack at the centre of the board, stopping his advance head-on.

"Well, it so happens that today's my five-year anniversary with my boyfriend! Isn't that great?" she beamed.

Blake's grim expression was exactly what Amber hoped for.

By the time English was over, the girl had the upper hand. All Blake did during the rest of the lesson was stare into space like a statue. Naturally, her academics suffered during the classes that followed. She was much too excited to focus during Business Studies, and she could not even be paid to care about Maths. Visual Art Studies was a different story, however. Amber needed to get ahead. And in any war, information was the greatest advantage.

"Why, Miss Marigold, are you grinning like a fool?" the teacher asked once Amber got to class.

Ms Sauvage stared the girl down with pale green eyes that held the world's judgement. With high cheekbones, platinum grey hair, and blood-red lips, the elderly lady carried herself with even more superiority than the cyngs of this town.

"I'm smiling because I get to see my favourite teacher."

"Girly, this wrinkly bottom has been kissed more than you could ever know. You'd have better luck trying it on the bloodlines."

"I'd rather kick than kiss their asses, Miss," Amber said. "If only this damn town wasn't filled with useless cops."

"Mmh, quite the talker, I see," Ms Sauvage remarked. "If you're lucky, you can talk the bloodlines to death."

Amber grinned wider.

Kids started filling the class, taking their seats at the paint-covered tables. The walls had collages of colour charts, texture guides, and canvassed art. Sunlight filtered through the windows by the sinks, casting colourful hues through the paint-stained jugs. Ms Sauvage instructed everyone to continue with their final projects for the term, sitting at her desk and drinking a glass of what Amber suspected to be red wine.

"And no nude paintings, Mister Lynch," she warned.

Amber raised her brows. Mr Lynch was a curly-haired kid who looked about three, perhaps four years younger than her. Jessy told her not to worry about him, but the girl could not ignore his leather jacket, even if it was covered in colourful pins.

"None? Not even one with the most gorgeous teacher?" the kid asked. "Miss Sauvage, your beauty is unmatched!"

"Yes, go ahead, Boy," the woman cackled. "The last man that professed his feelings to me is six feet under, pushing daisies."

Mr Lynch laughed. He scooped up his art supplies and walked over to an easel. Amber grabbed her bag, parking over at the spot beside the boy. Right now, he was her best shot at an information advantage over Blake. She got out her paints and started working on a landscape of spruce and bluebell flowers.

"What are you painting?" Mister Lynch suddenly asked.

Amber's eyes snapped to the boy.

"Uh... a forest landscape. You?"

"I'm painting Miss Sauvage with only fruit covering what's necessary," he admitted.

Amber returned his sly smile without meaning to.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm fifteen. I was really smart when I was younger, a prodigy, if you will. So, I got pulled up pretty fast."

"The opposite of me then," Amber said. "What's your name?"

"Alejandro Baldonado Carabello Lynch. But really, you can just call me Lynch," he said, puffing his chest.

"Nice to meet you, Lynch. I'm Amber," the girl greeted with a handshake. A scar ran across his right palm.

"Whoa, Amber, as'n Amber from the be—" he stopped himself, ears red. "I— I mean, you're the Amber that interrupted Blake?"

"The one and only," she replied. "Do you know him?"

"Know him? Know him? I live with him! We're not related or anything, but we're super close," Lynch explained. "Like brothers."

Amber relaxed. She was getting information, and the kid came across as too honest to keep things to himself.

"So, are you part of the Western bloodline, then?" she asked.

"Yip. I'm his first kin."

She raised a doubtful brow.

"I mean, I'm his first kin's first kin's first kin's first kin."

"That's like fourth?"

"Yip."

"How many kin are there in the West?"

"Four."

Amber shook her head at the boy. What the hell is this kid doing in a bloodline? She wondered. He acted much too innocent for it. Was it because he stayed with Blake?

"Your hair is really pretty," he suddenly said.

Amber blushed at that.

"Not as pretty as yours."

"Do you want to touch it?" Lynch asked, angling his head. "I don't let just anyone do it, but you can if you want."

The girl happily patted his curly brown hair. It was even softer than it looked. And while he returned to painting, she decided right then and there that she liked him. Informant or not, the kid could be a friend.

The bell rang, and it was lunchtime. Nothing could make Amber speed-walk quite like the promise of food. The brick theme of the school followed to the noisy cafeteria, where modern tables and chairs clustered together with chatty kids. It was pizza day, and the girl haggled the lunch ladies for six slices but got away with only two. She sat by a table at the back corner, waiting for her cousin and scheming how she could bully her into conceding her slices.

"Why, hello there, Goldie."

The pizza turned stale before Amber remembered to be cheery.

"Heyyy," she turned and greeted back.

"Oh? I'm glad someone's excited to see me," Owen said.

Lazily, he strolled around the table and sat opposite her. He had a smirk that lit up his dark eyes. The twins were with him.

"So, why are you in such a fantastic mood?" he asked.

"I'm in a great mood because it's a great day. I can't wait to get home and celebrate," Amber answered.

Oh, she was going to have them right by the balls.

"What are we celebrating, Goldie?"

"It's my five-year anniversary with my boyfriend!"

Gotcha.

In an instant, she was the only one at the table still smiling.

"Your... your boyfriend?" Owen asked, his face growing pale.

"Yup," she beamed, clasping her hands together.

"What's his name?" one of the twins asked.

Shit. Amber needed to strengthen her defence. Her opponent had a sudden queen emerge, and it was dangerously close to her pawn.

"Where are the others?" she asked, buying time.

"Matt's got border duty, and they're already graduated," Owen said. "What is your boyfriend's name?" He leaned in.

Amber racked her brain for anything to use, but all she could come up with was a movie called Alan and the Chipmunks.

"Alan Chipmunk," she answered, backing her pawn with another.

The twins eyed her suspiciously.

"Where is he?" the other one asked.

Their queen was still a threat.

"He's where I left him. I moved regions, but we video call each other every night. I just have to get through these last three months of high school, and then we're moving in together."

The girl entered a third pawn to the game and threatened her opponent's queen. The twins were looking bleak now, retreating. Seeing the opportunity, Amber leaned in and went for a kill shot. With the board opened, she moved her own queen into the game.

"I think he's my true love," she said.

It took all she had not to laugh at everyone's faces. A buzz from her phone, however, brought the girl back to Earth.

Mr President
What will you do once they figure out the truth?
10:34

Well, shit.

***