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“What Gavin did to you, well, most people would call that unforgiveable.”
“Not you?”
“I think the heart wants what it wants, Emilia. If you want to forgive him, that’s your decision. I can’t possibly tell you whether that’s the right choice or the wrong one. All I can do is help you with your hair.”
She steps back and hands m
e a mirror.
“Look at yourself.”
I lift up the mirror and I gasp at the transformation. I’m not sure why she styled my hair like this or what caused her to try to make me, out of all of the people at the school, to look beautiful, but she did, and I can’t really do anything but smile at that.
“Thank you.”
“Your eyes aren’t hollow anymore, and your heart shouldn’t be, either.”
I look up at her and Adalee smiles gently.
“No matter what he’s done, and no matter what you’ve done,” she says. “Communication is the best way forward.”
“Since when did you get to be so smart?”
“Let’s just say, I’ve seen some shit.”
“Okay.”
“I’m serious, Emilia. You should talk to him.” Her brow furrows, but she doesn’t seem to have any frown lines or wrinkles. Even when she’s frustrated, Adalee still always looks so perfect.
But I know that she’s right.
“Okay,” I say. “Tomorrow.”
“Don’t forget.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
She smiles at me and places a hand on my shoulder.
“Your hair really does look good,” she says. “It’s a pity you’re going to sleep and you’re going to mess it all up.”
“Why did you come over to style it before I go to sleep?” I ask. It’s kind of bothering me, actually.
“Everyone deserves a happy ending, Emilia. Sometimes we just need someone to give us a push. When you don’t feel beautiful, or you don’t feel special, sometimes looking that way can help, and can give you the confidence push you need to get through.”
She starts gathering up her things quietly, and then Adalee gives me a little wave as she leaves my room. She closes the door behind herself and I’m left alone to fight with my thoughts.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
Chapter 11
Gavin
I’M SILENT THE NEXT day at school.
To a certain extent, it feels like my world has ended all over again. Perhaps this feeling is wrong, but I’ve spent the last five years believing one truth only to discover that it’s all been a lie.
Not only has everything been a lie, but it’s been a big one: a master scheme designed to keep me from knowing not only who my father truly was, but who and what he cared about.
