Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
The music died.
“Fifth!” she shouted.
“Hudson pulled me out of the car that night, didn’t he?” There was no point mincing words.
Anne gasped for the second time that morning.
“Oh my God,” Eva whispered.
Mom’s arms fell to her sides, and her eyes flashed with anger.
“Yeah, the secret is out. I’ll make this easy on you,” I offered. “Let’s stick to yes or no answers. I’m not interested in your excuses, anyway.”
“Allie,” Anne whispered, but I kept my eyes on our mother.
“He pulled me out of that car. He stayed with me. And you knew.” I folded my arms.
“Rachel, if you wouldn’t mind giving us a moment?” Anne asked, and the door clicked shortly after.
Lines bracketed Mom’s lips as she pursed her mouth.
“You knew!” I snapped at Mom. “All the years you told me I left Lina for dead. All the times you told me that I owed her because I saved myself. You knew!”
“Yes.” Mom looked out the window. “I chose—”
“Yes or no only, Mom,” I interrupted, my blood rising to a boil. She’d kept me tethered to her wants, her dreams, for decades, binding me with little ropes she’d declared were love. But now I knew they were guilt, shaping me into someone I hardly recognized anymore, and I’d let her.
“Oh, Mom,” Anne whispered. “How could you?”
Eva sat on the arm of the couch toward my right.
“He came with me to the hospital soaked in my blood from trying to stop the bleeding, and you threw him out.” Each truth snapped one of those ropes, the rebound stinging my soul.
“Yes,” she answered, almost bored as she folded her arms.
“He came back, too, didn’t he?” My fingernails dug little half moons into my palms. “And you told him that I’d never forgive him for not saving us both, so he should go. That if he didn’t, you’d tell me he’d had ample time to save us both but had left her there to die.”
“You didn’t.” Anne sagged to my right, landing on the edge of the couch next to Eva.
“Holy shit.” Eva’s gaze darted between Mom and me.
Mom lifted her chin, her eyes focusing somewhere beyond the window as rope after rope splintered and broke.
“But really, you meant that you’d never forgive him. I mean, how could you know if I wouldn’t if you never told me?” My voice rose and I didn’t care. I clung to that anger like a life raft.
She swallowed and reached for a water bottle, then started chugging. Ironic that we handled our panic attacks the same way.
“Maybe she doesn’t understand,” Eva whispered.
“Allie, talking about Lina has always been hard on—” Anne started.
“I don’t care.” Rage colored my vision. “Why, Mom? Because you saw him—saw my feelings for him—as a threat? Realized that I had a year before I turned eighteen, and then you wouldn’t have control anymore, that Hudson would give me the strength to be who I was instead of who you wanted?” I stepped forward, but kept watch on the bottle in case she decided to throw it. “Or did you punish him—punish us—because he saved the wrong daughter?”
“Yes.” She swung her gaze to mine and crushed my heart in a one-word fist.
“Yes to which?” I demanded.
“He . . . Lina . . .” She shook her head. The muscles in her neck flexed, and she glanced beside me, to the picture on the wall. “Just. Left. My. Daughter.”
“I’m your daughter!” I shouted, slamming my hand over my chest.
She flinched.
“Anne”—I gestured to the couch—“is your daughter! Eva is your daughter! You had four daughters, Mom, not just one. Losing Lina did not give you the right to break us down so you could try to pour our pieces into her mold.” Snap. Snap. Snap. Ropes broke and others frayed.
“No.”
“Oh, right.” I nodded. “It was never her mold. It was yours. You wanted us to live out your dream, and you never once asked us what ours were. Did you even ask Lina if she wanted to keep Juniper? Offer her support? Or was that relationship just another casualty of your relentless selfishness?”
“Lina.” She swallowed. “Wanted.” She shook her head like the thought was ludicrous. “Baby.”
My stomach lurched. “And you made her give her up?”
“You could have told us,” Anne said. “We would have helped her.”
“Too weak . . . to do . . .” She struggled for the words. “I. Made. Lina. Principal.” She lifted her left hand and jabbed it my direction. “And you.”
“You made me a guilt-stricken mess who only finds joy in dancing when I’m not with your precious company. These last few weeks have been the first time I’ve enjoyed it in years.” I seethed. “I never wanted the Company. I wanted out, to dance freelance all over the world, and you told me I owed it to Lina. You twisted my guilt for your purposes and told me I had to take the MBC contract, that it was my fault Lina had been out that night at all, and MBC wouldn’t be MBC without a Rousseau onstage.” The truth of that last sentence bit into me until I bled. “You twisted all of us. Lina kept her pregnancy a secret while you bribed Everett to make it easier to leave Juniper. Anne’s a damned lawyer who uses her degree to plan Company events because we all know if you aren’t dancing, you should support the ones who do, right? And Eva . . .” I laughed. “Eva stabbed me in the back and stole the role that had been created for me!”