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Be happy.
My mantra helps me ease into a blissful sleep.
The next day, I walk across the estate, stopping often to smell the flowers. The gardeners have done a wonderful job tending to them. When I go back inside, infused with a new wave of optimism and courage, I turn to head to my father’s office, needing to talk to him. Now that I’m back, I want to go to college. I have the grades, and I can’t just stay in the house all day long.
Marie stops me and says, “My child, stay away from him today. He’s in a bad mood.”
“But this is important.”
I steel myself. It’s my future, and I can’t delay it. Maybe I just need to plan for it better.
If I was away for college, he wouldn’t have to see me.
I knock, announcing myself with false cheer. “It’s me, Father.”
I step inside when he gets to his feet.
“Did I say you could enter?”
“I thought—”
“You don’t think, Aurora. All you have to do is look pretty and keep quiet.”
Watching his face contort into maniac aversion, I take a step back over the threshold and notice his eyes lose their hardness for a second. “What do you want?”
I gather all the bravery that plunged into my stomach, stammering, “I-I thought that with my grades, and seeing as though my presence upsets you, I should leave for college.”
His mouth twists with derision. “You don’t have to think about the future. Yours is already set for you.”
“I don’t understand.”
What become clear to me is that my future is not my own nor is it in my hands. A spark of defiance rises.
“I. Want. To. Further. My. Education.”
“What do you plan to study?”
“Literature.”
He bursts into laughter and heat blooms on my cheeks. He bends over slightly as if I was an inconsequential bug he could stomp on at any time.
“Understand this. You will do what I tell you to do. There is a dinner on Friday, and I want you on your best behavior. Now, go. I have things to do. Don’t bother me until then. Marie will take care of you.”
I close the door and walk down the hallway. When I reach my room, I slide down until I hit the floor and curl my fingers around my legs. With my cheek resting on my elbow, I sigh, a long, dejected sound ripped from my chest.
My phone rings and I rush to answer it. It can only be one person. My excitement overrules my bleak mood.
“I’m grounded.” Chiara’s face fills the screen, and my worry ebbs a bit.
“It’s only been two days.”
She huffs, waving a hand through the air. “Yes, apparently I am not lady enough for my future husband. When I told myparents they could drag my lifeless body from this house if they wanted me to marry that man, my father had enough.”
“Will it make you feel better knowing my father hates me and my brother is his closed-off self?”
“We really hit the jackpot with our families, didn’t we?” she asks, voice thick with sarcasm.
“What are you going to do about the marriage?”
