The Hawthorne legacy

"YOU WEREN'T JUST A PART OF THEIR GAME," Xander replied. "Of course you weren't. The old man's mind didn't operate that way. He didn't just choose you for them." Them being Grayson and Jameson. Their game being the one we'd already solved. "He left you a game, too," I said slowly. It was the only thing that made sense. Nash had warned me once that their grandfather had, in all likelihood, never intended me to be a player. I was the glass ballerina or the knife. A part of the puzzle. A tool. I narrowed my eyes at Xander. No matter the old man's intentions—I wasn't here to be used.