Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
“But he didn’t.”
“He didn’t. I did enough of that for all of us, didn’t I?”
Frankie stared at the warm blanket covering her instead of Carina. “I mean...”
“That’s how it goes when you’re angry and bitter and sick, I suppose. So sick that you can’t even understand your own sickness.” Carina’s emerald eyes surveyed her almond-shaped manicure with chrome tips before her gaze lifted to settle on her stepdaughter again. “You can’t ever say I didn’t teach you something, though. That I didn’t offer you perspective. You came out better for it in some ways. Fragile in others. I should have worked harder on that maybe.”
“Perspective?” Frankie’s heart ached when she laughed manically. “Is that what you call developing anxiety so bad that you’re puking into blankets at seven years old and hiding them in the washing machine? Because I don’t.”
Carina’s stare dropped instantly. “Later, I think. When you were older, you learned to give it as good as I gave it. Didn’t you? Do you think that just came out of nowhere?”
“I don’t think—”
“Do you remember your first week at high school? One example of many I could give you.”
Frankie did unfortunately.
“You called me because no one else could do for you what I could. I showed up, didn’t I? I put that makeup on your face, taught you how to do your hair, put heels on you and showed you to own them, and walked you into a closet those girls at that Academy could only dream of. You had a Birkin instead of a backpack, and those idiots teasing you the first week never said a thing more because they could only pray to be you after that. You were untouchable to them. I made you untouchable. I did that for you, Frankie. Me. If I truly hated you, wouldn’t I just enjoy your suffering when I could?”
“Yeah, well, you also...fucked me up. A lot.”
“You lost your mother the day you learned to walk. I think you were traumatized long before I came along, but I certainly didn’t help. I can admit that.”
“You still don’t help.”
Carina shrugged. “You handle it better now, so.”
Jesus.
Frankie’s head hit the pillows, and she stared up at the ceiling while wishing Carina would leave sooner than later. “Did you ask anyone about Daddy?”
“They say he’s irritated. Slightly concussed. They’ve run scans and didn’t find any bleeds. I think they even plan to let him sleep tonight, if he makes it to twelve without issues. He’ll be fine.”
“They won’t let me see him.”
“They want him to rest,” Carina replied frankly. “Trust me, he’s asked for you, too.”
“You think?”
“Get real, child.” Her stepmother scoffed and the chair squeaked. Frankie looked her way to find Carina standing again, bag back at her elbow. “You’re the first and only thing on his mind every morning.”
The two locked eyes, and the silence stretched on. She figured out what Carina had meant earlier.
“He loves me. That’s what it is,” she said, knowingly. “What he couldn’t give you.”
Carina smirked. “Do I get to be mean back now?”
Frankie shrugged this time. “Do your worst. It’s not like I can run away and hide right now.”
Nearer to the door, Carina stopped and turned to face the bed once more. “To be fair, I don’t typically kick people while they’re down. It’s not nearly as good of a look as walking over them to get what I want, anyway. I’ll get back to you on that one. Let’s say you owe me. How about a little perspective instead?”
A dangerous game. Carina’s brand of perspective could be just as traumatic as her abuse. Frankie didn’t reply, waiting for the worst to come.
Carina never disappointed.
“You know, you’re lucky. You have the kind of father all little girls should. He’d move heaven and hell for you. Buy you the moon, if you wanted. You’re the first person he asks for when he’s been away. You’ll never want for a thing as long as he’s alive. And he loves you the way a father should love his daughter. You’ve never known anything else about men, fathers, except for the one you have, and you’re so fucking lucky for it. It’s almost sickening, but you don’t realize it. Girls with fathers like yours don’t act the way you do. They don’t do the kinds of things that we both know you do. I know you do it, because I do it, too, even if it’s not quite the same. And sometimes we do it because it’s the only way they’ll notice, finally look, and really see us, right?”
Frankie’s molars crunched to keep equally hurtful words locked inside her chest that burned to rush out. Even if they would be true.
Carina steamed on ahead, unbothered. “You’re going to have to get over your vices quickly, sweetheart. The tantrums. That co-dependency with Daddy and Sissy. It’s not a good look on a young woman, because that’s how everyone else is going to start seeing you soon. A young woman, not a seventeen-year-old child. And if you’re the kind of woman that they think can’t make a decision for herself or doesn’t have a voice, they’re going to treat you accordingly.”