I don’t need their fear anymore.
“Regret?”
I stared at her, my chest burning like it was on fire.
“The only thing I regret… was coming back to this house.”
I stepped toward her, each word a blade plunging straight into her heart:
“Marielle, tell me—have any of you ever felt even a shred of regret for what you did to me?”
“When I was beaten in prison, tortured, jabbed with needles, humiliated like a dog—where were you?”
“When my leg was broken—where were you?”
I pointed at them, my voice hoarse, nearly cracking apart:
“You’ve always only had Evangeline—that outsider!
Never me!”
“She’s the one who committed the real crime, but you all pretended not to see. You lied for her, covered for her, pushed all the blame onto me alone.”
“And now that I’m out, you still want to keep hurting
