“Not your parents,” I say softly. “You cut them off years ago, remember?”
“Yeah? Do they have names?”
“Simone,” she replies almost immediately. “Elsa and… Anna.”
“Are these friends or cartoon characters?”
Her glacier blue eyes narrow at me. “You are way more of an asshole than I remembered.”
“It’s good to see some fight in you,” I tell her. “Where was it when Casey came to pick you up like a runaway mutt?”
“I don’t think you can talk s**t about him at this point. Pot calling the kettle black and all.”
I c**k my head to the side and wait while her anger blows itself out.
Her frown falters. The longer the silence lasts, the more she writhes and wriggles. But I’m used to silence and screaming alike. I can endure it all to help her see the bigger picture.
That I call the shots now.
“
