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I can practically see my words bouncing off the shield Alexander has built around her. “He takes care of us, Cordelia. Alexander is doing what is best for us—forbothof us. Without him, we’d still be on the streets.”
There isn’t a single part of her that thinks she can take care of herself. Jorden always waxed on about wanting a sugar daddy, but it’s because she wanted a break. Not because she wasn’t capable.
But Alexander has fooled my mom into thinking she can’t do a single thing for herself.
“I’d rather be on the streets than in prison,” I hiss. “That’s what this is for me, Mom. A prison.”
She lifts her chin. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
I pause, waiting for her to say something else. Waiting for her to show some kind of concern for her only daughter. Even just a tiny little smidge of sympathy.
But there is nothing.
I knew a long time ago that my mother was brainwashed, so I’m not surprised. But that doesn’t make her response any less painful.
Hat the Brat pokes her helmeted head of hair into the dressing room. “They are ringing you gals up. Someone better get out here and pay before I throw a few things for myself on the pile.”
“Right? If I was twenty years younger and twenty pounds lighter, I’d steal all of Cordelia’s clothes for myself!” Mom laughs giddily and turns to me, no sign of our previous conversation on her face at all except for the slightest glimmer in her eyes. “Never forget how lucky you are, darling. It all fades in an instant.”
Go ahead. Fade.
I won’t complain.
18
CORA
Sometime during dinner, someone delivered all of the clothes I bought this afternoon to my room. I shuffle through the hangers and don’t recognize anything. I’m sure I tried it all on, but it was a blur. Even now, the dresses might as well be identical prison jumpsuits for as different as they look to me.
I slam my closet closed and flop down on the bed.
Dinner was slightly more bearable than breakfast, but only because no one spoke. Not a single word. Alexander and my mother ate in stony silence. I wanted to probe them to see if they were in a fight. I’m finding weaknesses between Alexander and Mikhail already, so maybe finding a few between Mother and Daddy Dearest could be useful, too.
But the silence was nice.
At first, I thought being locked away in a room by myself was torture. Now, it’s preferable. There are no mind games when I’m alone. No one tries to bend me to their will. It’s peaceful.
So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that fate says,Oops, never mind,and my bedroom door swings open.
I go from relaxed to a ready position in record time. My heart slams against my ribs, adrenaline pumps through my veins.
But it’s only a maid. She’s young. No more than twenty-five. Her blonde hair is twisted into a braid on the top of her head. She’s wearing a black dress that covers her from neck to knee just like Alexander orders.
“Excuse me, miss,” she says, inclining her head slightly. “I’m just here to change the sheets.”
“Someone was in my room earlier today.” I gesture to the closet. “If my sheets needed changing, they would have done it then.”
“It’s a normal part of the schedule. Just a blanket refresh.”
She takes a step into my room, but I move towards her, blocking her path. “I’m fine. I don’t need new blankets.”
What I need is five minutes to myself without any surprises.
“It will only take a moment.”
All at once, my annoyance shifts to awareness.
Something is wrong.
