Sometimes, Valerie wondered howmuchshe could extinguish before the raging inferno within her became too overwhelming. She almost feared what would happen then, if it was unleashed.
“You should go,” he finished, already turning his back on her. “We can’t do this, Val.”
“Dravka—”
He entered the washroom and shut the door on her words.
We can’t do this, Val.
His words rang in her head.
Val stared at the door, her face draining of color, and she wrapped her arms around her body. She’d lost some weight the past few months. She hated that she could feel the brittleness of her bones underneath her palms.
Broken.
So broken.
I want to be whole again.
She couldn’t even remember the brave girl she’d been before. The one who would’ve marched to the washroom door and tore it off its hinges so he would speak to her. The one who would’ve demanded answers and not let him skirt around the distance that had been building for months.
The one who would’ve confessed her love the first minute she’d realized it, years before.
The one who would’ve left Everton…when she’d had the chance.
I want to be that girl again, she realized, that thought blooming inside her, filling up space that she hadn’t known lay empty until it felt suffocating butright. She struggled to hold onto it as her feet brought her before the washroom door. Her fist raised, about to knock, todemand.
Then the back of her neck prickled…
And that bravery left her all at once, freezing her in place, the old scars across her back beginning to throb in memory.
She smelled Madame Allegria’s heavy perfume before she heard her voice.
“I knew I’d find you up here,” her aunt chimed.
Most people, men especially, would do anything for a voice like that. Seductive and lilting. Often, Valerie had wondered if her aunt could’ve become one of the most influential and wealthy citizens of the colonies if she didn’t have that voice. The one that made men beg and made women envious.
If only they knew the monster that lurked underneath.
“Come,” Madame Allegria ordered, her tone hardening. “We have a party to go to this afternoon. And I won’t be seen with you looking likethat.”
Unease curled in her belly. A party? Valerie had never been to one. Madame Allegria preferred that no one knew of her existence.
“Now,” her aunt snapped when Valerie hesitated too long, staring at the washroom door. “And don’t let me come searching for you again. You won’t like it when I do.”
Valerie’s mother had always told her that hatred was a disease. It festered and ate at you until there was nothing left. It had always been her mother’s wish that Valerie would never know hatred.
Now, she wondered what her mother would think, knowing thatallof Val’s hatred was directed at her mother’s only sister. That she had felt hatred’s sharpness and acrid sourness for years.
Other than Dravka, hatred was the only thing Val had left to hold onto.
And now, Dravka was slowly slipping away.
What would remain of her then?
Valerie turned away from the washroom door and left.
Chapter Two
