“Well?” I said coldly. “How was your time with your father today?”
Rose flinched at my tone but stepped forward eagerly, desperate as always. “He… he read me a story, Mama. For almost ten minutes. He even patted my head before he left for the meeting.”
Ten minutes. A child’s pathetic victory.
I laughed, sharp and humorless. “Ten minutes? That’s all you managed? After everything I’ve taught you? You’re supposed to make him *love* you. Make him see you as his heir, his pride. Instead, you give him ten measly minutes of a bedtime story like some common pup?”
Rose’s lower lip trembled. She dropped to her knees on the cold marble floor without being told, exactly as I had trained her. “I’m sorry, Mama. I’ll try harder. I promise. Tomorrow I’ll be better. I’ll make Daddy smile. I’ll make him
