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I see it now.
I ignored it, the differences in us. Kind supporters of my father’s would just say I looked just like Dad and Lilah looked just like Mom, the perfect balance. But she doesn’t look like Dad at all. She’s all tan skin and light hair and curves for days. She’s short in stature, has a straight nose and full lips. A bombshell.
The perfect Mob Princess.
But that’s not what I see now.
I see the truth in her big brown eyes.
She knows.
She knows.
How long has she known?
I stare longer, that connection that we always had as sisters sparking, a silent conversation.
“You know,” I say, my voice soft.
Then I see it again.
A quick dash of pain. Pain at my confirming what she suspected.
She knew there was a secret that she couldn’t know, that it wasn’t safe for her to know. All this time, those small questions she’d ask, leading me in a direction where we could have talked about it. She knew. She knew, and I probably knew that somewhere deep down, but I never told her.
I never wanted to see this face on her.
I also knew, somewhere deep down, that if I confirmed this fact to her, that we weren’t full blood but half-sisters, that she would have no required loyalty to Dad.
I think I knew there was always the chance she would want to burn down the world to keep me safe.
But I had already sacrificed too much to keephersafe.
“You were little. Mom . . . She wanted you safe. And I think, in her own way, she wanted you to remember her in a positive light.”
“So it’s true,” she says, her voice soft.
Broken.
So unlike my strong, sassy sister.
Goddammit.
Years of protecting her, over in a few hours.
Then it’s gone, that shattered look. Her back straightens, and her shoulders roll back.
“It’s true, and you’ve spent your whole life protecting me.” She looks over at our father—my father, really—and a look of disgust crosses her face. “And you knew all along. You used that against her.”
“Lilah, no—”
“You’re rotting with greed, Dad. Inside and out. It probably started before Mom died, but as soon as your tether to sanity and morality was gone, it took off. Greed and power and greed for power. Corruption. You knew Lola was protecting me. And you knewwhatshe was protecting me from.” She says it with knowledge, like she doesn’t need the confirmation, like this information was brewing slowly for years. “You used that. You used her fear, her promise to Mom to keep your shit under wraps.”
“I don’t know—”
“I found her journals.” The air in the room goes still.
“What?”
