“You looked stupid in it.”
My breath leaves me.
“And the envelope from Pete?” I ask. “The one with my culinary school application fee?”
She shrugs. “You weren’t going to leave anyway.”
My eyes burn so hot it hurts.
I did not go because I thought I lost the money.
I thought I was careless.
I thought I failed myself.
All these years, I thought that was on me.
“You sabotaged me.”
“You were in my way.”
“I was taking care of you.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
The chair rocks beneath me.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Something inside me goes quiet.
“You let me think you were one of the girls they took,” I say.
Her mouth tightens. “Don’t make it sound so dramatic. I’m in the business.”
“You help him take girls, Brianna?”
“Those girls wanted money. Parties. Attention. They made choices.”
“You lured them.”
“I introduced them.”
“To men who sold them.”
Her eyes go flat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No,” I say, voice shaking. “I think I finally do.”
For the first time, her expression flickers.
She doesn’t like that.
Good.
