That night, I wrapped myself tightly in my blanket.
The words echoed in my mind, accompanied by tears.
The next morning, my eyes were indeed swollen.
I couldn't face Thomas, so I skipped breakfast and hurried back to school.
Throughout the day, I was distracted, constantly checking my phone for messages.
The previously constant contact from Thomas was completely absent.
My friend, Juliette, noticed my worry and asked.
"Did things not go well last night?"
I pointed to my swollen eyes. "What do you think?"
"Did you use the tricks I taught you?"
I thought about the slip dress and Thomas's final look at me.
I felt as if I were being torn apart again. "I used them."
Juliette was puzzled. "That's strange. With your looks and figure, how could you not win over a man?"
"You always said your uncle treated you well, didn't you?"
It was pretty good.
But I couldn't tell if it was because he liked me.
Or because I was his so-called niece.
Thomas wasn't my father's biological brother and he was an orphan.
Years ago, Marcus took him in and, given the small age difference, listed Thomas as a family member.
I went from being a little girl who followed him around calling him brother.
I became his only niece.