to anything that could give her escape from Mr. Sinclair’s presence, from the visions.
From the knowledge that Cassandra’s in trouble, and it’s all her fault.
7
Cassandra
Curled up in her bed, wrapped in a heavy comforter, is the only place Cassandra feels safe. When she’s here, it means the worst is over, and as long as she lays on her side, the welts on her back don’t hurt as much. She can almost pretend they aren’t there.
Why did she have to open her big mouth? She should know better than to say anything that contradicts or opposes her father. Hasn’t she been through this enough times to have learned by now?
Yes, she has. But he mentioned her. The one person who Cassandra can never seem to shake. It’s hard for Cassandra to control her emotions whenever Brielle’s around, or any time someone even says her name. And for her father to consider her for an internship, or to consider her at all, over Cassandra… There’s no greater trigger.
Her hands tremble as they pull the comforter tighter around herself. The heat has completely vanished from them, left them limp and ineffective. Nevermind the lashing she just endured, which always makes her feel helpless.
Not just helpless because the one person who is supposed to be loving and nurturing to her is the one causing her so much pain, but because of the knowledge that she can’t deny whenever her palms burn—that her dad is the one in danger from her.
She closes her eyes, determined to put this night behind her and wake to a bright new day full of possibilities.
But when sleep finally does come, she finds that the night isn’t done with her yet.
“What do you think they’ll look like?” asks six-year-old Brielle as they lay on their bellies at the ends of their beds, looking at each other in the darkness. Lights out at Grace Orphanage didn’t have to mean they had to sleep.
“I don’t even care, as long as they love me,” Cassandra says, the void in her heart aching. “But it would be nice if they have blond hair like me so I could pretend they were my real parents.” She twirls a lock of gold around her index finger.
“I’m sure they’ll love you, Cassie, no matter what,” Brielle says, smiling sweetly. “You’re the best person I know.” She reaches her small hand across the distance between their beds, and Cassandra takes hold and squeezes.
“Maybe we can find someone to adopt both of us,” Cassandra says hopefully, gently swinging their clasped hands. “Then we could really be sisters.”
“That would be amazing!” Brielle squeals. “But even if that doesn’t happen, you’ll always be my sister.”
“And you’ll always be mine.”
With a start, Cassandra’s eyes pop open. There’s a searing in her chest, like a freshly stitched wound has just been ripped apart.
Only this wound has been here for a decade, never to be mended.
Cassandra had truly loved Brielle then. She had firmly believed that they would always be best friends. Sisters, as Brielle had promised.
Until the Meet and Greet that changed everything. Cassandra couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy as she watched the Sinclairs take to Brielle and walk through the garden with her. They had been talking to Cassandra when they first arrived, but as she always did, Brielle charmed them with her sweetness. At the time, Cassandra had believed that Brielle hadn’t been trying to steal their attention, but now Cassandra knows better.
Then when Brielle had ruined her chances with them, and they chose Cassandra instead, Brielle tried to make sure Cassandra didn’t get a family, especially not one that rejected her. The whole thing had hurt so much. How could Brielle betray her like that? She tried to steal the same family twice!
And the things Brielle had said about the prospective father were ludicrous.
When Cassandra first came home with the Sinclairs, they were everything she’d ever wanted. Her father tucked her in every night and read her bedtime stories. Her mother filled her closet with the prettiest dresses and always fawned over Cassandra’s long golden hair, trying a different updo for every outing. Brielle had been so wrong.
Until the first time Cassandra made her father upset.
She had cried all night long after the spanking. She’d never felt more degraded or less human, and the shame that filled her was unbearable. This doesn’t prove anything, she’d told herself. It’s not unheard of for parents to spank their children. I will just never disobey him again, and this won’t