I had no illusions left about my father’s love. But still, I thought about it. About walking up to him and whispering the truth.
I’m pregnant, Dad. Reagan can’t know. I need help. He's going to kill us both.
But I knew better. My father never helped unless it benefited him. And telling him meant risking my babies’ lives. So I swallowed the words down like poison and smiled like I wasn’t suffocating.
And then, like a snake slithering into my space, she appeared.
“Oh my God, bestie!” Dulcie squealed, wrapping her arms around me in a hug that felt more like a stranglehold. “I missed you so much!”
Her perfume was overwhelming—sweet, intoxicating, fake.
She pulled back, eyes scanning me from head to toe before her lips curled. “Dani, darling, you look so… shabby.”
My grip tightened on my glass.
Dulcie gasped dramatically, touching my arm with faux concern. “Are you eating enough? You look so… plain. No wonder Reagan—” She cut herself off with a laugh. “Oops, never mind!”
She knew exactly what she was doing.
I forced a smile. “No wonder Reagan what?”