seemed clear, at least to Jade. In fact, everyone in the room swung their heads around to stare right back at her, accusation in their expressions.
As if she’d already failed.
And it didn’t matter that she’d never asked for this job. It had been expected of her from the moment she’d been born.
The last thing Jade had ever wanted was to be put in charge of taking care of Forestwood’s resident lake beast. Libby had resided in the cool, deep depths for as long as anyone could remember, and the Burnett family had always been her caretakers. Libby personally chose whom she wanted and when. Since Jade’s mother, Amber, was still young and vibrant, Jade had figured she’d had at least ten more years before being asked to take on the task.
Thus when Libby gave her approval for Amber to retire from her duty and pass the chore down, Jade had been completely unprepared. Worse, Amber had said nothing other than a terse “Good luck.” Evidently, training wasn’t one of the perks of the job.
Jade had been caretaker since she’d turned twenty, nine years now. In the beginning, she’d often resented that fact. These days, she felt more comfortable, more at ease with her role, which mostly consisted of being Libby’s friend. Maybe in the beginning, when Libby had first come to Forestwood, the role had been one of a protector, Jade wasn’t sure. Every decision, even those made by the Burnett family in a family meeting, had to be run by Libby before being implemented. In truth, Jade privately thought the family meetings were all for show. And an excuse to get together and eat.
“I’m doing the best I can,” she muttered to herself through clenched teeth, while she tried to figure out what to say. “I think I’ve done well considering my age when I assumed the role of Guardian.”
Unfortunately, Opal’s hearing was the one thing that hadn’t declined with age. “Life is not fair, honey,” Opal drawled. “And since Libby specifically requested you, there wasn’t much choice in the matter.”
Ever since the first time Jade had heard Opal make that statement, she’d grit her teeth and wondered how anyone had actually known what Libby wanted. In the prior years when Jade had accompanied Amber to take care of Libby, not once had Libby—whether in human form or not—ever said two words to her. Not once. Jade had begun to sincerely doubt she could talk. Of course the minute Jade had stepped into her mother’s role, all that had changed. She and Libby had sat down several times and shared a meal and chatted. These days, Jade felt as if she and Libby could easily become close friends.
Once, the knowledge that Libby had requested her had filled her with resentment. Now, she felt a little glow of pleasure.
Belatedly, she realized everyone was staring at her, waiting for a response.
Jade dipped her chin at Opal to show she understood. “That may be,” she continued, addressing the entire family. “But the fact is, someone did talk to an outsider. Word traveled, far enough to attract that photojournalist’s attention.”
“Then deal with it,” her mother said tiredly. “Distract him. You’re pretty enough. Pretend to be helpful. You know as well as I do that Libby stays deep when a stranger comes around. That journalist will learn nothing, unless you tell him. And I know you won’t do something that foolish.”
And there she had her answer. She wondered why part of her had hoped...what? That they’d let their secret finally out in the open, for the rest of the world to marvel at and share? Or at least the shape-shifter world. Humans could never know.
“Are we finished?” cousin Coral demanded, sidestepping closer to the food table. “Because if we are, I’d sure like to eat my dessert.”
Jade glanced at her grandmother, who dipped her head yes. Then at her mother, who did the same, except with a smile. “Then I guess we’re done.”
The instant the words left her mouth, chairs scraped on the