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She waltzed into my closet. The hinges creaked and groaned. “Don’t give me this attitude. You deserve everything that’s coming your way.”
Every muscle in my body clenched as she began sifting through my clothes, searching for…What?
Secrets? More documents? Things to help her figure out what I was up to?
She already knew I planned to contest the will as soon as I had the means. Anyone with a functioningbrain could guess that.
“Why?” I rushed after her, rearranging everything she tossed, pulled, and tugged. “Why do you hate me so much?”
A genuine question.
I didn’t believe in fairytales with one-dimensional villains and angelic heroes.
I believed in the gray area between bad and good. Where good people could make bad choices and still try to be better the next day.
Vera balled a shirt of mine and chucked it on the floor, pivoting to me.
“You really want to know? Even when the answer is so obvious?” Heavy pants rattled her shoulders. “You were his biological daughter, Farrow. Who looked just like him. You had the DNA advantage. And he was obsessed with you. Loved you far more than you deserved. He only pretended with Reggie and Tabby.” She drew a hand to her chest, the globe-sized engagement ring Dad had given her twinkling under the light. Tears sprung to her eyes. “Oh, my sweet girls. They tried so hard to please him.”
My jaw clamped.
I struggled not to cry.
I missed him so much, not because he was the best father, but because he was the only person in my corner.
It sucked. The aloneness I’d felt since he died clung to me like a latex dress.
Sometimes, I’d close my eyes and fight the constant tide of loneliness by recounting the earliest memories Dad and I shared.
Lately, it had gotten harder. Memories were a lousy ex. When you wanted them gone, they stayed. When you wanted them here, they left.
Vera jerked away from the clothing rack and hugged herself. “And he put all of his resources and time into your fencing. We always came second to you. He cheered you on at every single competition you’ve ever had, yet he never made it to Tabby’s ballet recitals or Reggie’s pickleball matches.”
Now wasn’t the time to point out that they’d both sucked at their crafts and lasted point-three seconds.
Tabby’s entire ballet career could be summed up in one three-minute home video of her starring as a tree inThe Nutcracker. The part didn’t require her to move.
In fact, itencouragedstillness.
“You wanted him to give me away when my mother left me at his door.” I clutched one of Dad’s sweatshirts she’d discarded to my chest. “Your cruelty cannot be excused.”
“Yes, I did.” Vera’s eyes met mine. She stood tall, proud andunapologetic. “You were a healthy cherub of a baby. Not even a month old. You would’ve found a wonderful family to adopt you, somewhere you didn’t have to compete for attention. I tried to do you a favor. You weren’t foster care material.”
“Oh. Wow.” I shook my head, a bitter chuckle escaping me. “You didnotjust say that.”
But of course, she did.
Vera Ballantine had no limits.
I flung the door open, waving a hand at the cavity it left. “Get out of my room.”
Vera advanced to me, shoving her face in mine. “Don’t contest the will, Farrow.”
“It’s not the real will.”
Her face was so close to mine, I could see the rage swimming in her bloodshot eyes. “How do you know?”
“Because he would’ve left me the business.”
