I pushed this woman who called herself my mother away from me. I watched her stagger backward, and then I left without looking back.
Right now, tomorrow's competition meant more to me than she ever had. I had spent two lifetimes chasing her approval. I was done.
But Sylvie's bony fingers clamped around my wrist like a vise. Her shrill voice never stopped its torrent of curses.
"This is all your fault," she screamed. "Because of you, Lucas lost his overseas training opportunity. You are trying to ruin his future. You vile, wicked girl."
Even after all this time, Sylvie still saw me as nothing more than a resource to exploit for Lucas's benefit. My achievements meant nothing. My pain meant nothing. I was just a tool.
'But what about me?' I wanted to scream it in her face. 'What about yo
