hair was falling out of its bun, and the stray hair framing her face gave her wild-eyed look a desperate edge.
“It’s not a sin, Mom—”
“Gambling is a sin,” she interrupted. “Don’t you try to sugarcoat my vile addictions.” She shook her head and muttered under her breath, “I’m no better than your father.”
“Mom, this isn’t about—”
“You deserve better.” She crumpled in on herself as her shoulders shook with sobs. “You deserve so much more, my sweet son.”
I sighed as she kept wailing, her words aimed toward herself—a sort of self-flagellation that was both familiar and annoying.
We’d been over this more times than I could count. Did it suck that my mother singlehandedly took the money my father had left behind and squandered it?
Yeah. Of course it did.
But no amount of wailing about it changed the fact that we were broke, bordering on bankruptcy, and frighteningly close to foreclosure.
No one knew the full extent of it—not even Jack, though he’d likely guessed at the state of things since we’d had to get rid of most of our help. He never commented on it, just showed up on his afternoons off at the shop to give me a hand with the running of this place.
“Okay, Mom. It’s okay.” I went to her and took her into my arms, wrapping her up in an embrace like I would a small child.
Her fingers clutched at my shirt. “Promise me you won’t go,” she said, her voice high-pitched and pathetic. “Promise me.”
“Yeah, okay,” I said, trying to keep the impatience out of my voice. “Okay, I promise.”
Ten
Lila
I knew something was wrong the moment I walked through the door. My sister whirled around in the kitchen, and her eyes went wide with warning.
“Tess? What’s going on—”
“Delilah.” My father’s voice cut through the living room—cold, sharp, and filled with disdain.
My stomach sank as I looked to Tess with an accusatory glare. You told him.
She didn’t try to deny it. Instead, she pressed her lips together and looked down at her phone, which sat on the kitchen counter.
“Daddy, I can explain.” I took a step toward the counter and stopped. I flashed Tess an expectant look, but she shrugged. I narrowed my eyes at her. How was I supposed to explain when I didn’t even know how much she’d told him?
How much did he know?
“Tell me,” he said in a voice that was chillingly calm. “Do you not know what Brandon looks like? I could have sworn you knew what he looked like, but then how to explain why you were kissing the wrong boy?”
My mouth went dry with panic. Even when he wasn’t in the same room, I could feel his wrath. “Daddy, I can make this right.”
“I know you will, Princess.” There was nothing reassuring about that phrase, not when it was said as a threat. I know you will, Princess… or else.
I didn’t want to think about the or else. I took a step toward the counter. “I just spoke to Brandon,” I said.
“I assume you apologized for being a little slut and making out with his best friend.” His words, spoken so evenly, so without feeling—they were a slap in the face.
My swift inhale was audible. “I can explain.”
“No need,” he continued. “I just got an earful from your sister. All sorts of explanations and rationalizations. She seems convinced that I should give you a second chance.”
I looked over at Tess, but she didn’t look up to meet my eyes. Fine. It wasn’t like I was grateful anyway. If it wasn’t for her, Daddy wouldn’t know how much I’d messed up.
“I can make this right,” I said.
“You’d better, Princess.” He sighed loudly, and I could practically see him leaning back in his office chair as he considered his next move. “Delilah, do you know how many empty-headed, pretty bimbos audition for this studio every day?”
I saw Tess lift her head, and I could feel her eyes on me, but I refused to look over at her. I didn’t want to see her pity.
Heat rushed to my neck, my cheeks. But I swallowed down the tears that came stupidly and reflexively in the face of his barely veiled insults.
“I asked you a question,” he barked.
“No, Daddy.” I was proud of how clearly I’d spoken despite the choking sensation as I waited for him to continue.
“There are countless girls like you in this industry, Delilah. This city is overflowing with women who are more attractive than you, skinnier than you, and God knows nearly all of