Page 85 of Best Kept Secret

I didn't wait. My feet were already moving, faster than I could think, down the hall toward Nina's office. I could hear voices as I got closer—the low murmur of my father's calm, manipulative tone, and my mother's sharp-edged whisper that I knew all too well.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. When Nina asked me to come in, I entered my hell.

My parents sat in armchairs in the seating area, across from Nina, like they belonged here. Like they had any right to be inmyspace.

"Mira, thank you so much for making time to be here. I know you're very busy." Nina got up and walked to me. She put a hand on my shoulder and moved me to take a seat next to her on the couch.

"Mira," my father acknowledged me, his voice too smooth, too controlled.

I could feel a tidal wave of anger rising inside me, combined with fear. "What are you doing here?" I demanded.

Nina glanced at me, still smiling like we were at high tea or some shit. "I actually asked them the exact same thing."

She did?

My mother didn't even bother to look at me, her eyes still fixed on Nina. "We've come to express our concerns," she said coolly. "Mira hasn't been well, and we don't think it's appropriate for her to be working in such an environment. She's a danger to all of you, considering her state of mind."

Dangerous. My state of mind?

I felt something snap inside me, like a rubber band stretched too tight for too long. The cold numbness that had protected me for weeks was gone, and in its place was a burning fire, years of buried pain clawing its way to the surface.

"You have no right to be here," I hissed. "Get out."

My father tilted his head, that condescending smirk playing on his lips. "We're just worried about you, Mira. After everything that has happened, which our lawyer told us about, it's clear you need help."

"She doesn't need your help—Mira, in fact, doesn't need help, period. She's doing just fine," Nina stated. "And, I'm curious. What exactly did your lawyers tell you?"

Nina was on my side, I realized, my heart stuttering. No one waseveron my side when it came to my parents.

"That Mira is doing drugs," my mother announced.

"Drugs?" I almost laughed out loud. What the fuck were they cooking up now?

"The Ambien," my mother pointed out haughtily.

She had to be out of her mind! I wasn't doing drugs; I'd tried to hurt myself, and as if that wasn't enough, they were here to fuck up my job?

I couldn't breathe. I felt the walls closing in, the air thickening around me. My heart pounded in my ears, the blood rushing to my head, making everything blur. But I wasn't going to let them get away with this. Not again.

"I think you're confused," Nina chuckled.

"Mira has always been good at hiding—" my mother started, and I banged my hand on the coffee table to shut her up.

"Enough. No more. You both need to get out of here."

My father shook his head. "Miss Davenport, as you can see, she's not stable."

"Hell, Mr. Sen, I wouldn't be stable either if the people who abused me showed up to my place of work to cause trouble. That's what you're here for, aren't you? To get me to fire your daughter, the one who's working hard and doing an amazing job?" Nina was calm as a lake, and that's when I decided, I wanted to be just like her when I grew up. I wanted to be like this amazing and strong woman.

"We're only concerned about her health and also about the health of the people around her," my father stated but I could see his eyes flashing. He hadn't expected this. Mr. Lawyer was not able to manipulate Nina.

"On come on, Mr. Sen, what you're worried about is that she's working with some of the most influential people in the state and she might tell us all aboutyou." Nina sounded more amused than angry.

"Get out." I stood up, my hands clenched.

"Careful, Mira," my father said softly, finally turning his eyes to me, a warning glint in them. "You're sounding hysterical. She's always been a touch melodramatic."

Melodramatic? The word ricocheted through my brain, and I saw red. The memories flooded back all at once—the nights I'd cried myself to sleep, my broken whispers and dreams, the fear, the shame. All of it came crashing down on me like a storm I couldn't escape.

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