Emmeline sighed as she thumbed through the couture section of her dressing room. She narrowed her eyes at the offending sea of designer silk and lace, and blew a stray hair out of her face.

“Let’s start with color,” she murmured to herself.

Pointing her finger at the long rack of dresses, she moved across the hangers and mentally crossed off gowns as she passed each one.

You and you.

She plucked out two dresses—a strapless floor-length emerald-green gown and a knee-length cobalt-blue cheongsam.

“Ms. Rose, should I wear green or blue for tonight’s gala?” Emmeline called out.

The click of Ms. Rose’s slippers came down the hallway and stopped at the doorway of Emmeline’s dressing room. Ms. Rose peered over her glasses and tapped her manicured fingernails against her lips. Her short sandy-brown and gray-streaked hair bobbed as she nodded at Emmeline’s dress choices.

“Emia, you know you’d look beautiful in either dress. You could wear a paper bag and still be a princess,” Ms. Rose said.

“That’s not true, and you know it.” Emmeline eyed her two choices and selected the blue cheongsam.

“You look like you’ve decided that you’re not going to have a good time tonight.”

“There’s so much gossip at these events, and I’m constantly dodging nonstop questions from all the aunties and uncles. I feel like I’m under interrogation sometimes.”

From an early age, Emmeline and her brother had been taught to address their parents’ close friends and business partners as auntie and uncle despite not being related. She often had to bite her tongue to stop herself from calling her friends’ parents as such.

“That’s because you only show up when the family foundation’s a title donor. I worry some people might think you’re too good to go to lower-profile events, and nobody likes a snob. If you went to more events, people might talk less,” Ms. Rose countered.

“Or maybe they’ll realize I’m boring and leave me alone.” Emmeline smiled delightfully at the thought. “Why don’t you come with us, Ms. Rose? You haven’t been at one of these events in years.”

“Absolutely not. Can you imagine the gossip columns in the society pages?” Ms. Rose waved her hand in the air to imitate a newspaper headline. “Emmeline Taylor-Wu mocks high society by bringing her governess to the gala to keep potential suitors at bay.” She pressed one hand to her chest and laid the other dramatically on her forehead, pretending to feel faint.

“No one would dare mess with you,” Emmeline giggled.

“It’d be scandalous!” Ms. Rose straightened and wrinkled her nose. “In any case, Mattie’s accompanying you.”

Emmeline rolled her eyes. “Mattie’s the opposite of helpful. He doesn’t keep the aunties off my back as to why I’m not married with two perfect little children running around. The aunties love Mattie so much; he could commit a crime, and they’d clamber over each other to protect him. I’m pretty sure they love him because he’s the exact opposite of charming, which makes him even more charming.”

“They also love him because they want to set him up with their single daughters. Who wouldn’t want a hardworking, well-connected doctor who comes from money?” Ms. Rose walked over to Emmeline’s jewelry chest and picked up the stack of eight thin pure-gold bangles that had once belonged to Emmeline’s mother.

“These would look wonderful with your dress. Your grandma gave these to your mother when you were born. They were your mother’s favorite, and she adored the sound they made when she moved her wrist.”

“They’re my favorite too.” Emmeline looked away. “You’re right; those would look beautiful with my dress. I’ll wear them tonight.”

Ms. Rose put the bangles back into their rightful place, and when she turned back around, all traces of memories were gone from her face.

Emmeline cleared her throat and changed the subject. “I might not like these events, but Mattie hates attending.”

“Only your brother could turn escaping charity line dancing into an art form. You’d think he worked for a spy agency based on how fast he disappears off a dance floor,” Ms. Rose said.

“The loud music gives him a terrible headache.”

“That’s true, but he also has a million pairs of those little things that go in his ears and cancel noise. I know because I keep ordering them for him.”

“Even I keep a pair in my purse for him in case of emergency. Maybe I’ll point that out next time I catch him trying to pull a Houdini,” Emmeline snickered.

When they had been children, Matthew had avoided loud noises by hiding in nooks and crannies. Their parents would find him hunched over in odd corners, covering his ears and rocking back and forth. They thought Matthew would eventually grow out of it, but when they finally understood his sensory oversensitivity, they made sure he always had a pair of noise-dampening headphones with him. When she had been younger, Emmeline had started carrying her own set to be like her older brother.

“There must be some eligible bachelors at these events. Give them a chance, and a few might surprise you. And if nothing works out”—Ms. Rose shrugged—“you’ll have made a friend—or at least another potential donor to the many causes the family foundation supports.”

Emmeline gently shooed Ms. Rose out of the doorway. “Time for me to get fabulous. You know how particular Mattie gets about being on time. Nothing irritates him more than being late, and the last thing I want is to give him another reason to be grumpy.”

Emmeline changed into her cheongsam before adding a pair of brilliant diamond studs and the gold heirloom bangles Ms. Rose had picked up earlier. She applied a touch of luminous makeup to her wide, almond-shaped eyes that were the color of a midnight sky. If one looked close enough, they’d find bright amber flecks dotting her deep irises like stars. After winding her long, wavy black hair into a low bun, she picked out a small clutch and pale gold heels to complete her look. She grabbed her favorite pair of leather ballet flats for the car ride and walked over to her backlit mirror.

You are confident. You are smart. You are beautiful.

After repeating her pep talk, Emmeline went to her bedside table and picked up a delicate gold band. She ran her finger along the inside, feeling the comforting inscription.

Forever and always.

She slipped her mother’s ring onto her index finger.

Ready.

Just like her mother had taught her, she straightened her posture, held her head back, and left her bedroom.

•

Matthew didn’t look up from his tablet when Emmeline walked into the kitchen and dropped her clutch on the island, where he was working.

“We’re going to be late, Emia,” Matthew frowned.

Emmeline rolled her eyes. “We’re not going to be late, Mattie.”

She looked over her brother in his slim-cut tuxedo and resisted picking off a stray piece of lint on his shoulder. They were both tall, like their father, and lean and lithe, like their mother. Throughout Matthew’s early teenage years, her mother had worried he would be petite like her, but the summer that he turned sixteen, he’d shot up like a beanstalk. Emmeline and Matthew both had their mother’s high cheekbones and midnight eyes, flecked with amber, and their rosy-gold skin was an even blend of their parents’ English-Australian and Chinese origins. All in all, they looked alike, except Matthew’s golden-brown hair contrasted dramatically against Emmeline’s ink-black tresses. Emmeline had always thought Matthew’s many freckles made him exceptionally handsome, and she loved how the light smattering across the bridge of her nose made her look like she had just returned from a trip to the beach.

“Mattie, are those glasses new? The navy looks good on you. It brings out your freckles,” Emmeline asked innocently.

Matthew pushed up his glasses and ignored her.

Emmeline’s grin widened. “Ms. Sun and the other aunties are going to love this look. I’ll be sure to point it out to them.” She giggled as Matthew looked up at the ceiling.

“Do we really need to go to the gala tonight?” Matthew grumbled.

“Mattie, we’re going because our family’s the title donor for the Royal Children’s Rehabilitation Hospital. They need our help to build the new wing.”

“Can’t we just give them more money?”

Emmeline snorted. “Believe me, we’ve already made a generous donation from the family foundation.”

“So, why do we still have to go?”

“Because we’re the title donor, and that’s what title donors do,” Emmeline repeated impatiently. “Stop trying to get out of it because it’s not going to work.”

Ms. Rose entered the kitchen and flew to Matthew’s side, careful not to get too close. “Mattie, you look so handsome!” she gushed. She looked over Emmeline and Matthew, and her eyes shone with pride. “You both clean up so well. I don’t understand how neither of you has found a partner yet. Emia, you hide at home, working all the time, so that doesn’t surprise me much. But, Mattie, you’re handsome, rich, and a successful doctor. Surely, you meet people at the hospital. How is it possible that you still haven’t found someone yet?” Ms. Rose sighed. “No worries, my dear. The right person’s out there for you. May I hug you, Mattie?”

Matthew nodded and hunched over so Ms. Rose could hug him.

“Can I hug you too?” Emmeline asked.

Matthew nodded again, and Emmeline wrapped her arms around him and Ms. Rose.

“We should get going, Mattie. Am I driving, or are you?” Emmeline asked.

“Me.” Matthew grinned and held up a shiny, new key fob.

Another new car? Emmeline’s mouth fell open.

“I don’t want to know.” Ms. Rose held up her hands and swept gracefully out of the kitchen. “Drive safe and have fun. Make sure you put on your best faces and thank everyone for their donations. Also, remember your goal is to keep people donating, so be nice!” she called out over her shoulder.

“Yes, Ms. Rose,” Emmeline and Matthew chimed in unison.

Emmeline turned back to her brother. “Instead of buying a new car, you could’ve personally donated that money to the hospital, and I would’ve excused you from coming to this event.”

“One, you know that’s a lie. You would’ve made me come anyway. Two, I work hard for my money. And three, it brings me joy.” Matthew looked at Emmeline pointedly. “And what do we do with things that bring us joy?”

Emmeline only sighed.

•

Emmeline slid into the plush leather passenger seat of her brother’s new sports car and dropped her heels on the car floor.

This car must have cost the equivalent of a down payment for a property, and everyone knows real estate in Toronto is outrageous.

“Where are the oh-shit handles?” Emmeline looked up to her right.

“Oh, please. Your driving’s way more questionable than mine,” Matthew snorted. He revved the engine and drove down the steep driveway. Once he turned onto the winding single-lane road, he pressed a button, and the moonroof slid open, letting in the cool evening breeze.

“Mattie, how come the sound of a car engine doesn’t bother you, but other sounds do?”

“Because it reminds me of Dad.”

Emmeline lapsed back into silence, and she stared out the passenger window.

“What’s on your mind, Emia?”

“I was thinking about the little speech I promised to make. I’m also dreading the questions about my work and love life—or lack thereof. You know how the society columns write things and how much the aunties and uncles love to gossip. To them, I’m just a bratty kid who was left a fortune by her unlucky parents.”

“They were my unlucky parents too,” Matthew murmured.

“You made something of yourself, Mattie. You keep people healthy, and you save lives. Mom and Dad would be so proud of you if they were alive. All I do is manage the family trust and hide at home.”

Matthew glanced at her before focusing back on the road. “That’s not true. What you do is ensure Mom and Dad’s legacy lives on and all the good philanthropic work they did endures. You make sure the family trust has longevity and can continue to fund causes that support those who are underprivileged, even when you and I are no longer here. You’re not just some bratty kid.”

“A lonely, bratty kid.” Emmeline’s eyes didn’t leave the road. “Do you ever get lonely, Mattie?”

“Not really. I don’t mind being alone. Do you feel lonely?”

“Sometimes, I do. Mom and Dad have been gone for over ten years, and I still miss them very much. I’m finding it harder to connect with people as the years pass. It feels like there’s something wrong with me.”

“Maybe you’re like me,” Matthew said.

“Maybe.” Emmeline smiled.

Matthew turned into the entrance of Casa Loma, the historic castle that had been transformed into one of the city’s top event venues.

“Ms. Rose is right, Emia. You should stop being so reclusive and get out more. Even I get out more than you do. I know you’re terrified of having another seizure in public, but you haven’t had one in a few years. Don’t let fear stop you from doing what you want.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” Emmeline muttered as Matthew pulled up to the valet.

“Oh good. We’re here!” Matthew said with mocking cheerfulness, and they both rolled their eyes.

Emmeline changed into her heels as the passenger door glided upward. She stepped out of the car and waited as Matthew handed his key fob to the valet and then took his place beside her.

What a formidable and handsome duo we make.

With brilliant, well-practiced smiles and poise from years of training, Emmeline and Matthew posed briefly for the cameras before strolling into the famous castle.