Page 78 of Between the Lines

“I, umm…”

I swallow. And it’s when I can’t force it all the way down, because there’s a big ball of immovable emotion lodged there, I choke out a sob.

“I can’t,” I laugh around a ball of tears. “I’m grounded.”

Something in my body believes this place to be safe, thesepeopleto be safe, and I tell them what happened this weekend. I loosen the chains around my heart and let it out. They all eye me skeptically, save for Lucy, who chews her bottom lip, because she knows at least part of the story. Penelope raises a brow. Juliet’s furrow.

“I am essentially a third parent to my siblings. I’ve never really… You guys are really the first friends that I’ve had, and it took me kind of until now to realize how fucked up this truly is—okay, maybe not torealizeit, but to want to actually make a change. Like I finally understand what I’m missing out on with friendships and relationships and living for myself. But they don’t like it. Not one bit.”

They’re silent for too long, and I have to convince myself that it’s just because they’re processing, not because I freaked them out with my trauma dump.

“That’s fucked up, Claire,” Penelope says in a chilled whisper. “I never realized it was that bad.”

Juliet and Lucy nod and give me their own version of that sentiment. My head hangs, both in gratitude and exhaustion. I’ve never said it all aloud like that before. Pieced it all together. It was freeing, a weight slithering its way off my heart and making room for the comfort and support of others that was always meant to be there.

“So they just… Let me understand this better.” Penelope plants her feet on the ground and raises both hands between us like a stop sign. “You’re like Mommy number two? Like an unpaid nanny?”

I nod.

“They basically have you doing a full-time job without pay, and without asking?

“Mhm. My mom doesn’t want to work, but doesn’t want any of my dad’s money being spent towardsthings that are unnecessaryinstead of going straight into her pocket. Why spend money on a nanny when she could just use me instead?”

She blows out a breath.

“I can’t wrap my head around what’s worse: the not paying or the not asking.”

“The not asking, forsure,” Lucy says.

“Agreed,” Juliet chimes in. “You have your own life. You’re not their slave, you’re theirdaughter.”

I choke out a laugh at that sentiment.

“I don’t think I’ve felt like their daughter since before Michael was born.”

It’s the look of pity in their eyes that I hate—the reason I’ve never really unloaded on people in the first place. Then again, I’d have to have peopletounload on, but maybe that’s why I’ve always kept people at a distance—just far away enough so they can’t pick apart the very seams that would bust me open.

“Okay. How do we help?”

Penelope’s arms fold over her chest, and I tilt my head.

“What do you mean?”

“Yeah, what can we do?” Juliet asks.

I blink, blink again, and stare from Penelope to Juliet to Lucy. They’re all eagerly awaiting instruction with wide hopeful eyes, and at the absence of pity, I realize they’re serious.

“I don’t even know,” I laugh pathetically. Here I am, with six arms extended, and I can’t even give them direction.

“What’s your biggest barrier?” Penelope asks. “Why can’t you tell them no?”

I chew on my bottom lip and stare at my shoes.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I guess they’ve never really given me a reason not to?”

I shrug, glancing around the circle for a life raft.

“Do they make threats? You know, if you put up a fight against their control.”

---