Chapter 18
And the fact that I’d some codes to my overbearing hyper connelling, rosie Wet of a moles Before I send the father of any autora dilif
a text should be evidenor enough of how chuckendur I really waly am 7 cats ant say
Mother’s brow props back up. “You’d rather aut say? or you dramaly kne
I hate how the jab and thouffert alert me at all but does. The fuck your problem? Hist
Wanch your language young lady“” She glances around the room for the hundre diners make sure no one the knows is canestrapping For your indumaton youre my problem. You and your ser
Oh Oh dear Lord She’s crying
Mother mens her icy facade enough to collapse back in her dair like sometne just buchslapped the anger out of her body. Now, all that’s left is self–pity and a dramatic sense of injustice
1 cannot believe how far our family has fallen Service pitches high but manages to say que Your grandmoter world rol in her gare f only the her*
Now is for the te to rall my eyes. Now is not the time to all my ey
Your is not the time to remind her that Grandina didn’t que sits about ange or anything fr
didat inuire Canara
I hire the made of my cheek to suppress the mile I want so badly a show in find memory of my grandmother. She really was a way woman and selfes, and a hell of a baker
I have no idea how the managed to birth the winch or waling ass die table from me
I know I caused you gris bemer than did Melanie fr damn sure and how does ste repay me for everything? Wow, we can’t even show our faces
at the cory drb and that would be bad enough, bur Dagine? Are you listening to me
“Teah Sorry”
Sor even a inte h
Melanie, my yungerer, is the lucky one. Which is hilarious assay, because he was dragged through the mut chewed at it on them ruled into social suit when word spread that she had a serious–and
Chapter 18
seriously sexy–income as a webcam girl during college.
I’m not sure which was worse in my mother’s eyes: the fact that she wore sldmpy lingerie for thousands of viewers to ogle, or that she made bank on said activity. I’m pretty sure that, it she had just done a few things and only had a few followers, the whole thing would have been swept under the rug.
But Mel never did stuff halfway. She was raking it in, living well, living free.
Until some asshole decided to expose her. To our parents, no less.
That’s the most messed up part of the whole situation. No one really knows why the guy went out of his way to utterly ruin my family’s reputation. It didn’t matter that Melanie never actually slept with anyone, or that she’d left that hobby behind long before she wed, or that she was married now to a man who knew all along and didn’t care.
What mattered were the words people threw at her.
Slut.
Skank.
Whore.
Unforgivable.
Unlovable.
Unworthy.
Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting.
It was my mother’s worst nightmare. My father’s, too. All this money and prestige, and yet Mr. and Mrs. Hamish couldn’t afford to bring up perfectly chaste daughters to marry off into high society. And so the
inevitable conclusion…
There must be something wrong with them, too.
Whoever exposed Melanie did it for a reason. I still think it had less to do with my sister and more to do with my parents. Why waste time and energy on your enemies when a simple, fact–based rumor can destroy them while you sleep?
“So I must ask you again, Daphne Elizabeth Ha-”
“Covington.” I narrow my eyes at her in low warning. “My last name is Covington now.”
“Don’t remind me. Your sister’s idea, I’m sure.”
21:26
Boyfriend Let His Side Chick Run My Painting. Now He Regrets
15.3%
Chapter 18
Wrong again. I’m the one who chose to give myself a new name. A fresh start.
Mother shifts in her seat, straightens, and does her best to regain control over this conversation that’s gone wildly off the rails. “I must ask you,” she firmly repeats, “do you, or do you not, know who the father
is?”
I sigh. Might as well concede a little here. “I know who he is.” “What’s his name?”
I just shake my head.
“Daphne! My God!” Mother sighs with exasperation and no small amount of frustration. “You cannot sit here and tell me you plan on raising this child by yourself. Without any help, financial or otherwise, from the father. What will people think?”
“That I’m a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man?”
She rolls her eyes. “Please. That’s only what ugly, poor people think. You-”
“I cannot believe you just said that.” I pluck my napkin off my lap and plop it onto the table, because fuck
propriety. “I need to use the restroom. Excuse me.”
“Daph-”
I avoid looking at her while I shove my seat back. I need a moment to collect myself before I lay into her
and really cause a scene. But when I take another deep breath and flick my gaze up to try to soothe things
with a small smile, I stop.
Mother is staring over my shoulder, wide–eyed and pale. Like she’s seeing a ghost sitting behind me.
“What is he doing here?” she hisses under her breath. “Who?” I twist around to see for myself.
My stomach flips.
My lungs forget how to function.
“The man who ruined us. Who ruined our lives. The man who exposed your sister.”
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