Fallen Stars and Broken Dreams - C.C. Masters Page 0,34

to relax, though. You need to clear your mind so when things start up again, you won’t get overwhelmed.”

“That’s really good advice,” I said thoughtfully before letting out a sigh. “It would be a lot easier to relax if I had my best friend with me. It seems so empty without him.”

Mrs. Ferguson nodded, and her eyes were warm. “The silence of this place can get to me. Especially when the boys decided to spend all of their free time in the guest house instead of here.”

There was a flash of sadness in her eyes that surprised me. It seemed like she genuinely missed them, so they must not be that terrible to her. I guess Nina and I brought out the worst in them.

Mrs. Ferguson brightened. “Why don’t I show you to the media room? I’m sure you can find something interesting to watch.”

I nodded in agreement. “That sounds cool.”

It would have been even better if Ryan were here with me, but I needed to stop whining about being alone. I was a strong, independent woman, and I could enjoy things by myself.

Mrs. Ferguson left me in the room that resembled a miniature movie theater along with more snacks than I could eat, and all the remotes I needed to watch Netflix in style. I initially settled in one of the ultra-comfy plush leather chairs, but I moved to the floor to stretch. After all, I couldn’t be a complete slug.

I watched four episodes of the Witcher, and I was just starting to understand what was going on when the door crashed open.

I scowled when I saw my mother. She looked furious, but I raised my chin defiantly. I wouldn’t allow her to intimidate me.

“Richard expects me to stay here, in the house for the next week, because of you,” she said angrily. “He disapproved of a spa trip I had planned over a month ago. He thinks I’m a bad parent by continuing to live my life. I shouldn’t have to become a shut-in just because you’re moping around – he certainly wouldn’t.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are a bad parent, but I don’t want you around, either. I think you should go on your trip.”

“Richard’s worried that you’re having a difficult time adjusting,” Nina scoffed. “He thinks that little girls need their mothers.”

I scoffed. “I’m not a child.”

Nina looked at me sharply. “Richard thinks you are, and that’s what matters.”

She looked me up and down, and the sneer on her lips told me exactly what she was thinking. I lacked womanly curves, but that was true of most ballerinas.

“I’m sick of being trapped here,” Nina continued to rant. “My life would be so much easier if you were never born.”

I probably should have cringed at the way my mother was openly admitting she wished she aborted me while she was pregnant, but honestly, this was old news. I had no delusions that Nina wanted me in her life, and it would probably be easier if I just ignored her until she ran out of steam.

I went back to the fruit salad that Mrs. Ferguson made for me. She gave me a portion large enough for two meals, or one massive Netflix binge session.

“Are you listening to me?” Nina said in a raised voice.

She stomped toward me, and I sprang up out of my chair to face her, unsure of her intentions. She hadn’t hesitated to threaten or hurt me while we were on the plane, practically under Richard’s nose. What was she capable of when we were alone?

I stood up straight, unwilling to cower before her anger. If she wanted a fight, I’d give it to her. I didn’t have a shortage of rage and pent up frustration that needed to be released.

Nina reached for me with an ugly look on her face, but I smacked her hand away.

“Don’t touch me,” I hissed.

“Richard wants to see a loving mother be reunited with her lost daughter,” Nina sneered. “And that’s what we need to give him. I don’t care if you play the wounded dove routine, but you will get with the program.”

“And if I don’t?” I asked defiantly. “I don’t want to play these stupid games. I want to go back home to New York.”

Nina lunged forward and grabbed my arm. I tried to pull it out of her grasp, but her grip was too tight. Instead of continuing a losing struggle, I bared my teeth at her. I wasn’t a helpless little girl that she could