The moment I was out of Mom's reach I kicked myself for even believing a word she'd said in her heavy handed and blunt manipulation. I had no idea if this empathy thing came from her or not, but whatever power gave it control over me could take it back and choke on it.
How could I ever believe Mom actually trusted in me or saw me as a favorite? After years of disappointment, frustration, hurt? I stomped my way through the side garden, carrying the hateful high heels in one hand. While I had enough rebellion in me to take them off I wished that courage went so far as to allow me to chuck them into the glistening river. Instead they swung from my numb fingers like spies lingering and lurking that I couldn't quite escape.
Leave it to Daphne to make my day worse. I was almost to the west win
