"You’ll always be second-best, Alicia. Doesn’t matter whose blood runs in your veins."
It never stopped. And worse, no one ever believed me when I tried to tell the truth. I was always the liar. The ungrateful one. The burden.
Maybe it had been a mistake, choosing to leave behind the couple who raised me with love, the ones who tucked me in at night and kissed my bruises for my real parents. But they were gone now.
I thought coming back to my blood family would mean I belonged somewhere. I was wrong.
Patricia crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “I need you to do something,” she said, voice crisp. “Don’t attend the gala tomorrow.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” She walked closer, pulling an envelope from her coat. “There’s a ticket here. One-way. To the province. I booked you a resort for a week. You like quiet places, don’t you?”
She set the envelope down on my dresser like it was some peace offering. “You don’t need to be at the gala. You’ll only ruin it. And you should stay away from Denver while you’re at it. You’re not fit for him, Alicia. Never were.”
There it was. Her real voice. Cold. Entitled. Cruel.