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Mom shook her head, smiling at me indulgently like I was a child who couldn’t understand a math problem. She crossed toward me, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder gently. The gesture was probably meant to be soothing, but it took all of my willpower not to pull away from her touch.

“I do know what you want,” she told me. “And believe me, I know how you’re feeling better than almost anyone else could. That’s how I know this is the right thing for you. When I wasn’t much older than you are now, I married your father. Of course, I had my doubts. That’s only natural. But I made the right choice.”

The lump of clay that was my heart seemed to swell in my chest, pressing painfully on my lungs and making it hard to breathe.

“You understand?” I finally shrugged off her touch, shaking my head vehemently. “How could you possibly understand? Don’t you see what a hypocrite you’re being? Your marriage to Dad is a total sham, a fucking lie! You don’t love him. You cheated on him. You abandoned him the second he stopped being your meal ticket. And now you’re encouraging me to lock myself into the same kind of loveless marriage you have? Just to ‘secure my future’? That’s bullshit, Mom! Can’t you see that?”

Her hand moved so fast I didn’t even see it coming.

A resounding slap made my head whip to one side as a startled gasp fell from my lips. Pain exploded through my cheek and stars danced before my eyes.

I swallowed hard, adrenaline surging through my system as I slowly blinked and straightened, my hand coming up to press against my hot, tender cheek.

Mom’s eyes flashed with anger, and she leveled a finger at me. “Do not ever speak to me like that again, Cordelia. I don’t know what happened to you while we were getting by in the ghetto, but it turned you into someone I don’t even recognize.”

I blinked, staring at her as blood rushed in my ears.

All my life, I’d been taught to obey. To go along with what I was told, to never argue or talk back. My mother had never slapped me before—because she’d had no reason to. I had never stepped a foot out of line, never raised my voice to my parents or challenged their authority.

But she was right about one thing.

My time at Slateview had changed me.

The anger simmering beneath my skin burst out of me in a rush, and instead of shrinking back in the face of Mom’s imperious glare, I threw myself at her, hands flying.

She shrieked and stumbled back, raising her arms to protect her face as she called for help, her voice high and shrill with panic. I didn’t stop, lashing out in a frenzy as we both went down, landing in a heap on the floor with me on top.

“Cordelia!” she screamed, latching onto my wrists. “What is the matter with you?”

I could’ve given her a long fucking list if I’d been in my right mind. But through the haze of helpless fury that turned the whole world red, I couldn’t put together a single thought. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t stop. I could only struggle wildly against my captor.

Because in that moment, that’s all this woman was to me.

Just as I wrenched my wrist free of her hold, strong arms closed around my waist, pulling me back.

“Cordelia!”

My father’s tone was angry and commanding, and he was too strong for me to break free of his hold, no matter how hard I struggled.

I grunted and flailed in his arms, cursing him and my mother, speaking in half-formed sentences. I had slipped over the line at some point from poised, rational girl to feral animal, and I didn’t know how to flip the switch back.

But my father did.

“Poppy. Quickly.” I felt him jerk his head, and a second later, Poppy rushed over. The newest member of our house staff was a quiet woman with straight brown hair and a long neck, and her eyes grew wide as she approached.

She had a bottle of pills in her hand, and my struggles slowed as I watched her pop it open and spill one into her hand. I watched as if I were mesmerized as she handed it to my father, who released one arm from around me and took it, then held it up in front of my face.

“Take this, Cordelia. It will help you calm down.”

My dead heart beat out a heavy rhythm in my chest, and my hand trembled, but I took the pill. I had never been hit by my mother before, and my father had never physically restrained me before. He wasn’t a violent man, but he was a man used to getting what he wanted. I didn’t want to find out what would happen if I didn’t obey him in this.

I popped the pill into my mouth and swallowed it dry.

It tasted as bitter as it felt.

Two

An hour later, Mom came back upstairs to fetch me.

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