Page 119 of Endgame
“Could I maybe use your phone? My battery died, and I have to call my mom.”
The new mom in the hospital robe nods and hands her phone over. “Sure. Here you go.”
“Thanks.” I grab her phone, going further into the hallway.
That’s an extra twenty feet between me and Cormac, the watchdog.
I tap Molly’s number on the screen, hit send.
And wait.
She answers almost immediately. “I have nothing to say about my daughter’s?—”
“Mom?” It’s a habit, calling her by a title she hasn’t earned.
Whenever I called her or Dad by their first names, I was punished. Either by being dragged into the basement or surviving on the bare minimum for a whole week.
“You,” she hisses, her disdain for me rolling off her. She always hated me worse than Dad. “You have some nerve, calling here. After you humiliated us at the wedding. Not to mention, have you any idea how many calls we get a day? All these reporters asking for comments about the newlyweds? It’s your fault.”
“I didn’t?—”
“You did and you told them, somehow,” she cuts me off. “You’ve always been ungrateful. Always trying to undermine us.”
The hand at my side clenches into a fist. I bite down on the words I have for her.
Years of abuse. Of being held prisoner. Only allowed to leave when I scream like I’m a fucking lunatic woman—which, maybe I am.
None of the accusations leave my lips. There’s no time.
Cormac gave me ten minutes. At the very least, I’ve used up four or five of those.
“Is Everett my biological father?” I blurt out the question before I lose my nerve.
I’m pretty sure he isn’t, yet I have to ask.
“What?” A violent cough attacks her. Secretly, I hope she chokes and dies. Instead, she takes big gulps of air. Unfortunate. “No.No. He isn’t your father. We’re your?—”
“Cut the crap, Molly.” Relief surges through me, hot and wild. I’m able to breathe. To think. To use my voice against her. “You were never my parents.”
Shit—I didn’t mean to go there. No time. No. Time.
“Ungrateful little?—”
“No, don’t answer that.” I talk over her accusations, over her enraged gasp. “So he isn’t my real dad? Are you sure? Who is my dad, then?”
“You belong to us.”
“Yes, yes. Whatever you say.” I’d do anything to get to the bottom of this. Like being agreeable with her. “Just tell me who he is. Who my mom is. Who Everett is…to me.”
“Aurora Coraline Clarke, I see what this is. My God, I cannot believe you!” Her scream is loud. I flinch at the deafening sound piercing my ear. “This call isn’t about learning who your biological parents are. You’re curious because you think you fucked your father. You fucked Everett! Who the hell gave you permission to lose your virginity? Winston is working day and night to help you escape this sham of a marriage. How is he going to marry you off to someone else now? What have you done? At least—dammit, at least tell me you’re taking the pills I sent you. My God.”
She’s shocked? Really?
What did she expect from Everett?
The show of possessiveness he put on at the wedding. The fiery kiss at the altar.
He declared I was his.
