She marched closer until she towered directly above my body. “You are no longer a small child. It is the moment to mature and quit living in a fantasy. You must put on whatever I pick, grin for the cameras, and quit behaving as though this property is owned by a deceased lady.”
Her statements hurt as intensely as physical hits to the face.
She spun around sharply and exited the room, her heels tapping against the floorboards, sounding similar to weapon fire.
I remained on the ground, weeping heavily, when I noticed my bedroom entrance creak a bit.
“Riley? My dear? Nobody responded to the doorbell, I entered on my own.”
The person was Cynthia, Eliana’s mother. She had arrived ahead of schedule to watch me depart.
She hurried to the second level because I failed to reply and discovered me collapsed against the ground.
“Goodness gracious,” she gasped once she noticed the ruined gown.
I attempted to talk, yet my only action was crying loudly.
