“Did you see the news? Gina Lorne is dead.” Her voice is so casual. I could deny her, and say I was too busy. But this woman has been asking for it a while now. I am from New York f**k off City. I spin around at the cold undertone of that statement, my eyes glaring daggers at this woman, who is supposed to be my mother, but in its place has always just been a power hungry, gold digging tramp. But even w****s have standards. “When I was thirteen, I didn't believe it when I saw a picture in the tabloids of you holding on to some guys arm. My father saw it too, and I knew that day that you didn't love me, your own flesh and blood, so how the hell could you have loved him right? So, let's cut the crap and tell me what we’re really doing in Liston Hills, because we sure as hell not looking
