Page 77 of Ignacio

Edward’s knife and fork hovered above his plate. “What song is that? I don’t remember any of your songs having that title.”

“It’s a song I wrote. I recorded a demo with a few of my own songs, and while I was in New York I shared the performance with people at the label.”

“Sweetheart,” Edward said with a condescending laugh, “the record label is investing a lot of money in you and has already decided which songs will be included on the album and in which order they’ll be released. You can’t go making changes all willy-nilly. Who did you talk to?”

“Chase, in A&R. He approved the changes.” She saw the shift in her father’s composure.

“I see.”

He couldn’t argue with her answer. Chase was in charge of the album’s creative direction, and his approval meant the changes were a done deal.

“You’ll have to go back in the studio?” Edward asked.

“Yes. The timeline is tight, but Chase said if I do my part to have the recordings completed on time, they can be included on the album.”

“Why didn’t you discuss this with me before you went to see him?”

“Because I knew you’d try to talk me out of it.”

An uneasy silence permeated the room. Vivian and Jocelyn watched Delta and her father’s conversation with their eyesbouncing back and forth like spectators watching a tennis match.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, Delta. The other day I asked about you and Ignacio, and the way you talked about him—well, you sounded like a woman in a real relationship, not a fake one. Now this. Is he putting ideas in your head?”

“I’m an adult. Despite what you believe, I can think for myself.”

“Don’t be disrespectful to your father,” Jocelyn admonished.

“You want me to have more respect for him?”

“He is your father.”

Delta felt as if her chest was caving in, and suddenly she no longer cared about propriety and respect and manners and sparing the feelings of her parents. She was a grown woman, and it was time to prioritize her happiness and her peace. Time forthemto respecther.

“And you’re my mother.” She blew out a breath. “So why didn’t you protect me?”

“What are you talking about?” Edward demanded in a sharp voice.

The weight of emotion threatened to overcome her, but this time she wouldn’t allow the heavy load to crush her. One hand tightened into a fist beside her plate.

“Why did you leave me with Leo?” Delta asked.

Jocelyn gasped, bringing a hand to her throat.

Delta lifted her gaze to her father. “I’m sure you saw that he died.”

He didn’t move, as if he had been turned into stone.

“I keep going over it again and again in my head, and I can’t reconcile what you did,” Delta continued.

“W-we didn’t do anything,” Edward said.

“That’s the problem! You did nothing, and you knew. Youknew. So why didn’t youprotectme!” She slammed her fist onthe table and screamed the last sentence, shaking with anger and hurt.

Carefully putting down his silverware, Edward swallowed. “I…” He paused, shook his head, and then continued. “Sometimes… sometimes sacrifices have to be made.”

“Sacrifices?” Delta repeated, incredulous.

“Do you think I wanted that for you? Of course I didn’t, but look at everything you have now. You’re past the incident.”

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