IVY
Colorful. Loud.
Tsk.
The words rolled through my mind like old echoes, and for a fleeting second, Vivian’s pinched, judgmental face blurred into another, Erica’s. My stepmother. That vicious woman who could never stop pushing, always digging her claws in deeper just to see me flinch.
"Give up dancing for your stepsister, Jasmine."
"Jasmine should have been the first daughter, not you."
"How about you go stick to that sick wench of a mother?"
"An ugly duck like you doesn’t deserve a place in this pack house. Your place is the storeroom."
Each phrase marked itself into me like a scar I could never quite scrub away.
Vivian’s voice snapped me back. "What will I do with you?" she asked with a click of her tongue, her gaze crawling over me like a butcher inspecting meat. "You are n
