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I nodded.
“Rumors are like shadows,” he continued. “They can loom large and menacing, but they have no power in the light of truth.”
His words anchored me, like they always did.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said.
He gave me a tired smile. “That’s my girl.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mila
Brenda perched on the edge of the kitchen table, her eyes glinting with disdain. I had just finished peeling potatoes for dinner, the earthy scent mingling with the tension in the air.
“Mila, darling,” she cooed, “you’ve really hit the jackpot, haven’t you? A billionaire boyfriend could solve all our problems.”
I slammed the peeler down, a sharp crack against the countertop. “Cass isn’t my boyfriend, Brenda. And he’s not a winning lottery ticket.”
“I saw the news, Mila,” she purred, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “You and your billionaire boyfriend are quite the item. I’m thinking it’s about time we discuss how you can use this to our advantage.”
She tossed her bleached hair over her shoulder and laughed, a sound as hollow as her intentions. “Oh, come on. Don’t be naive. Use what you’ve got while you’ve got it. Get him to pay off this dump or get us a nice place.”
The words burned in my ears. I faced her squarely, my hands trembling with anger and the chill of potato skins still clinging to my fingers. “This ‘dump’ is my home. It’s where I grew up with Mom and Dad. It’s where Chad and Rachel are growing up.”
Brenda leaned in close, her perfume suffocating. “Look, sweetheart, you play your cards right and you won’t have to be scrubbing toilets or mopping floors anymore.”
I clenched my fists to stop them from shaking. “I work hard for what we have,” I spat out, “and I’m not going to exploit someone’s feelings for personal gain.”
Her laughter sliced through the room again. “Feelings? Honey, men like him don’t have feelings for girls like us.”
The knot in my stomach tightened into a fist of resolve.
“You know what?” I said, taking a step toward her. “You need to stop thinking about yourself for once.”
She stood up abruptly, the table scraping back loudly against the floor. “And you need to grow up and grab life by the—”
“Enough!” I cut her off sharply.
Brenda’s face contorted into an ugly snarl as she stormed out of the kitchen, muttering about ungrateful brats.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I watched her go. This was it; this was where I drew the line.
***
I squared my shoulders, drawing a deep breath as I approached Brenda in the living room. The faint scent of her perfume, too sweet and cloying, seemed to hang in the air like a bad omen.
“Brenda,” I started, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. “We need to talk about Dad… and about you.”
She glanced up from her magazine, eyes narrowing just slightly, a clear signal that she was on guard. “What about us?”
“It’s about this family’s future,” I said. “You know as well as I do that things haven’t been working out. Dad’s health isn’t improving, and your… involvement hasn’t been what any of us expected.”
Brenda straightened, placing the magazine down with a precision that belied her feigned nonchalance. “I’m not sure what you’re implying, Mila. I’ve been nothing but devoted to your father since the day we married.”
Her words hung in the air, laced with a sweetness that didn’t reach her eyes. It was an act I’d seen before, but now it grated on me more than ever.
“Devoted?” I echoed, incredulous. “Is that what you call leaving all the responsibilities to me while you go off to do who knows what? You barely lift a finger around here.”
