Page 132 of Pretty Little Threats

Consider this letter a hug every time you read it. I love you so much, my sweet daughter. You’ve made my life worth living. You keep me smiling, and I wish I could protect you forever.

Don’t forget to sing in the shower. Tip your head toward the sunshine and love like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

Love, Mom.

At the bottom of the letter is contact information for Ellen Richardson. I press my hand to my chest. Dare’s mom knew my mom? I had no idea. Dad always made it seem like the Richardsons were outcasts, new money who had no respect. And when Dare’s parents died, Dad always said it was because they’d raised a monster.

Lines dig into my face, and I set her note aside and pick up the other envelopes. The first contains a copy of the dissolution papers and some of the other documents Orion found. The second has information for a lockbox at a bank. The third has legal documents that appoint the Richardsons as my godparents.

My dad’s signature is right there next to my mother’s and the Richardsons’, but it’s not quite right. Almost a little too neat.

Why would she forge his signature on this document?

Because she didn’t think he’d approve of her choice?

My mind is spiraling as I try to put the pieces together. When they were alive, I never saw Dare’s parents, outside of swanky business events. Dad gave me strict instructions to avoid them, and now that I think about it, I always had someone to steer me away from them.

There was one event where Ellen had stopped beside me, but before she could say hi, my nanny pulled me away.

Dad went to such great lengths to keep me away from them. Dare swore he didn’t kill his parents. While our relationship was a mess of extortion, lust, and lies, that’s one thing I believed.

I’ve never seen someone be so adamant.

And if my mom wanted me to go to Ellen with these papers...

“Dad killed them,” I whisper, the realization yet another cut that leaves me bleeding. There are so many that I can’t count, and if they were true injuries, there would be a pool of crimson surrounding me. A puddle of lies and death encircling me until the only way out is to wade through the pain.

To push past the betrayal that carves into my heart so deeply, the organ may never recover. To swim every harsh word and reprimand, the insults, the soft moments of praise. To wade through every carefully placed manipulation as my life unravels around me.

I don’t even know who my dad is. The loyalty I spared for him and him alone is all for...

Nothing.

Sorrow fills my lungs, trapping oxygen inside my body until black spots dance across my vision and a death knell rings in my ear.

All this time, I was so proud to be a Miller.

I thought it meant something.

I fought to protect our name. His business. I spent years of my life, worked weekends, sacrificed my own desires, for what?

For my dad?

The man who killed my mom and Dare’s parents? He brainwashed me to make sure I never questioned him. The worst thing of all was, everyone else saw it. The tabloids. The board members and staff who whispered behind my back.

Even Dare. He tried to make me see it. He’s the only one who took the time to try and show me what was right in front of my face.

My entire life has been a waste.

Curling up on the floor of my closet, I let the tears fall until my eyes grow heavy and sorrow rocks me to sleep, but I don’t rest for long. Waking is like stepping into a nightmare. The truth of everything is all laid out before me.

My cheeks are chapped from crying, but for now, my eyes are dry. A familiar numbness has taken hold. In a practiced dance, my mind took advantage of the short reprieve from reality and blocked out the worst of my emotions, tucking them far into the recesses of my mind, where they can’t hurt me. I slowly sit up, my gaze moving over the documents, the note my mom left.

It’s all here.

Everything Dare tried to tell me was true.

I was a pawn, but even worse, I was a fool.

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