BRIAR’S POV
“But crying doesn’t change anything, does it?” I say more seriously, dropping the cup back down with only a sip of it gone.
Crying has never solved anything.
It didn’t bring Mom back or make Father love me. It didn’t stop Lucas from rejecting me, either.
All it has ever done is solidify that I am weak - a weak, pathetic girl who’s mastered the art of playing dress-up to hide her scars and massive daddy issues.
Her frail, old, wrinkled hands stretch across the table to hold mine in a comforting manner. Her face turns solemn as she tries to sympathize with me.
“Are you okay, child?” Her question takes me off guard, and I actually consider being honest for the first time in my life.
Am I okay?
“I don’t know… All I know now more than ever is that I don’t belong here.
