My mother, Hazel Kerr, walked into the back room of Kerr Bindery with a smile that meant bad news.
Hazel: Darcy. Put that down and come to the front. We have a visitor.
Bramwell Tarr, a collector with a rich man's calm, stood by the front counter like he already owned the dust.
His pale eyes moved over me once, slow, from my inked fingers to my mouth.
Hazel: Mr. Tarr is going to save us.
Hazel: He will marry you, Darcy. Then the bindery debt is finished.
I heard the words and then a ringing in my ears.
Darcy: What the fuck did you just say?
I turned to my father. I wanted him to look up and say no.
Darcy: Dad?
Duncan: It's for the shop, sweetheart. His voice cracked. He didn't look at me.
Hazel: Don't make a scene. You will marry him. You will smile.
She said it the way she used to tell me to sweep the floor.
Hazel: This family needs you to act right.
Darcy: No. I am not marrying a stranger to save your mistakes.
The room went quiet. One of the binders in the doorway stopped breathing.
Hazel's smile disappeared.
Hazel: Say that again and I will make sure you learn what your father is worth.
Her fingers pressed my jaw. The threat was low. It was not quiet enough to be private.
Duncan flinched but said nothing.
Bramwell: Let's not frighten her, Hazel.
His voice was warm and slow, like he had all the time in the world.
Bramwell: Darcy. Come here.
I didn't take his hand. He took mine anyway.
His thumb moved over my knuckles, slow, testing.
Bramwell: There she is.
A gold ring sat between his fingers. It looked old and heavy.
He pushed it onto my finger without asking. It stuck at my knuckle, and he forced it over.
Bramwell: It will loosen. Or your finger will.
Bramwell: I like a tight fit. You'll get used to it.
My face burned. He was talking about more than the ring.
His breath touched my wrist, and my skin tried to crawl away.
Bramwell: Best purchase I've made in years.
The words landed in front of my mother, my father, and the two binders watching from the hall.
Nobody argued.
Hazel let out a breath like the debt had already lifted.
I felt the ring cut into my skin and made myself stand still.
Darcy: I'm not your inventory, Mother.
Hazel: No. You're the payment.
The word hit harder than the ring.
Hazel: And you will act grateful at dinner.
Bramwell: By Friday, you will forget you ever had a choice.
His eyes sat on my mouth too long. Then my neck. Then the ring.
He saw a purchase. I wanted someone to see a person.
My mother called it a bargain. I called it a war.
I would wear the ring. I would go to dinner.
But I would not become the thing he bought.