Page 179 of Forbidden Lessons

He seizes my shoulder and swings me to the door, where a couple stand, trying to decide which bins to put their donations into.

“Smile like you mean it, little brother.”

He’s said that to me a thousand times over the years. After he’d pinch me, bite me, kick me until I was blue and purple.

Didn’t hurt as much back then as it does now, even though, this time, the pain is still to come.

Even though, this time, it won’t be me in the crosshairs.

I walk up to the entrance, giving the couple a shaky smile and motioning to the canned food box. They grin at me, gettingwhatever shot of dopamine they came here for, and I step aside so they can go to the ballroom.

My phone is in my hand a second later, trembling as I look up Haven’s number.

I got it from Nora in exchange for some candy bars. It was worth every Mars Bar.

But I’ve been too spineless to message Haven, to call her. I keep thinking it would leave a trail for someone to follow. Evidence they can use against me.

Well, shit’s about to go down, and she needs to know.

Even if it means incriminating myself.

Chapter 52

Haven

The thin veneer of courage I walked into the gala with just evaporated. Even this gorgeous gown I’m wearing feels flimsy as fuck suddenly.

“I think I’m having a stroke,” I tell Melissa as she drags me down a narrow corridor.

It feels like I’m headed for a public beheading…and it’s my neck on the chopping block.

She flashes me a nervous smile over her shoulder. “You’ll do fine,” she murmurs, but her voice is as unsteady as the hand she uses to guide me. “I really, really thought you knew.”

“No, Melissa!” I hiss. “I had no fucking idea.”

“It’s okay, really. Just…use your imagination.”

I yank my arm out of her grip, and she spins around to face me, her cream-colored gown as flawless and fluid as her makeup and hair.

We tried putting my hair into a French knot. It slid apart like a lemon meringue pie the baker had been too rushed to let set. So Melissa tried to curl it into soft waves…a few of them survived, but they’re heavy on the soft, and barely there on the wave. The little clip she used to drag some of my hair away frommy face made the most noticeable effect, but I can feel it sliding too.

This is what happens when hair that’s never been exposed to product is suddenly drowned in shea butter.

Her foundation was too light for my skin tone, but she got rid of the dark smudges under my eyes and found a bronze eyeshadow that really makes my eyes pop.

I’ll never forget the way she stared at me when she came up to me with a pair of diamond earrings and I told her my ears weren’t pierced.

When we climbed into her Aston Martin, I felt great.

Like, on top of the world, fantastic.

My dress was gorgeous. My hair shiny. My face…well, as good as it would ever be, I guess.

Even spotting Ezra at the entrance only made me hold my head that much higher. He’d never liked me, and it was obvious from the way his face stiffened up that nothing had changed.

But I brushed it off.

This?

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