Page 175 of Crucible

I believe him.

I…trust him.

“It worked. Uncle Mars kept me so isolated that my fans were all I had. I couldn’t let them forget about me, so I did whatever he wanted. I dressed up, I sang the songs, I played the part, and told myself it didn’t matter if I liked me becausetheyloved me.”

And when they stopped, all I had left was my self-loathing.

Khalil searches my gaze, and the jumping muscle in his cheek tells me he’s clenching his teeth—hard. “I know you, Aurelia. You didn’t take your uncle’s shit lying down. What happened when you refused?”

“I know what you’re thinking, Khalil, but he never hurt me. I was always in the public eye, so he couldn’t risk the bruises. Uncle Marston was very good at making me feel incredibly fucking worthless, though. I was no one if I wasn’t Aurelia George, the girl with the golden voice, and he made sure I never forgot it.”

“What. Did. He. Do?”

“Besides the mind games? Uh, let’s see. Sleep deprivation was one of his favorites because it meant he still got his way. Uncle Mars would keep my schedule jam-packed so that I would only get an hour or two of sleep if I was lucky. That would sometimes last for weeks. Extreme diet restriction thanks to some horse-faced bitch who went viral tweeting that I would be prettier if I lost weight. That started a week-long discourse about body image, and yours truly got to be the focal point ofbothsides of the argument. But hey, the first time Uncle Mars nearly starved me to death, I lost thirty pounds, and everyone congratulated me on this newer, smaller me.”

And whenever I was particularly defiant, or Uncle Mars was particularly cruel, he’d make me overeat just so he could later force his fingers down my throat and barf it all back up. It’s what sparked the rumors of me being bulimic several years ago, thanks to one of my many ex-assistants. I almost got canceledfor that, too, so my uncle leaked rumors of a new album in the works to distract them, and it worked.

“He did these things to you…for telling him no?”

“Anything could set him off. If I lost an endorsement or botched an interview or canceled a show because I got the flu…you get the picture.”

“Yeah,” Khalil says tightly. “I get the picture.”

“The diabolical part of it all was that my uncle used singing, the only thing I was allowed to have, to hurt me. He took the one thing that made me whole and used it to break me.”

“He didn’t break you,” Khalil denies with absolute certainty.

“No? I seem pretty fucking messed up to me.”

“No matter whatwethrew at you, there hasn’t been a single moment when you haven’t pushed back. No, baby. He didn’t break you, but I won’t tell you the scars aren’t there.”

I wouldn’t believe him if he tried. I can feel them just beneath my skin, waiting to show themselves through cruel words or sneers.

“Aren’t you going to tell me I’m wiser, more beautiful, and stronger for them? Or any of the platitudes people use to dismiss the pain of others?”

“No. You are all of those things, and it has nothing to do with your bitch-ass uncle. If anything, he did what he could to take them away from you, but it didn’t work. That’s why I’m going to kill him.”

“Khalil…you can’t say things like that.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t mean it.”

“Don’t I?”

“You’d have to more than just care about me, Khalil. You’d have to—” I stop myself before I can make a fool of myself.

“Say it,” Khalil urges. There’s a burning in his eyes that scares the shit out of me, and if I’m not careful, it will catch. “I’d have to what?”

You’d have to love me.

Because I’m a coward, I don’t say it aloud. I drop my head with a shake so that I don’t have to watch that fire bank from my denial. Khalil, thankfully, doesn’t push further.

“You’re irreplaceable tome, Aurelia.” My head snaps up with a gasp. “That’s why I meant it.”

“You mean, if someone prettier, thinner, and more cooperative than me dropped out of the sky, you wouldn’t trade me in for a newer, less troublesome model?”

Khalil scoffs like the notion of wanting anyone other than me is preposterous. “Definitely not.”

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