Page 69 of The Women of Wild Hill
“You must be angry at me,” Phoebe said as they sat side by side on the porch. “Do you want to chat?”
“I am angry at you.” Sibyl wouldn’t look at her. “But I don’t want to talk anymore. A friend of mine told me to let it go.”
“You talked about us with someone outside the family?”
“Of course not!”
“Then who’s this friend?”
“Never mind,” Sibyl told her.
Phoebe waited a beat. “So have you? Let it go?”
Sibyl considered the question. “No,” she admitted, and all at once, the rage she’d been holding in began to spill out. “Why did you spend my whole life rejoicing in all of my failures? You never wanted me to be as good as you at anything.”
Phoebe steadied herself. The fight she’d been anticipating had begun. “I wanted you to have the normal, happy life I never had. I wanted you to grow up not having to worry about your destiny or the fate of the world.”
“So you encouraged me to be a loser? If it hadn’t been for Lily—”
“Lily?” Phoebe asked, but Sibyl kept barreling forward.
“You kept our family’s history a secret. You didn’t even let me meet my own aunt. Now at the age of twenty-four, I find out that everyone here has been waiting for me to show up and do something spectacular—and nobody seems to know what.”
“This is exactly the sort of thing I was trying to protect you from.”
“None of it was yours to hide!” Sibyl shouted. “I deserved to know who I am!”
The truth of it could not be denied. Phoebe tried to take her daughter’s hand. “I’m sorry,” she said when Sibyl jerked away.
“You know, just because the rest of us aren’t as perfect as you are doesn’t mean we’re completely useless. Which reminds me—whatthe hell did Brigid do that made you cut her off from the rest of her family?”
Phoebe hesitated.
“Tell me!” Sibyl demanded.
“She said Calum didn’t kill our mother.”
Sibyl threw her hands up. “So Brigid was right and you’ve been punishing her all this time for nothing?”
“He was the reason my mother died!”
“No.” Sibyl was adamant. “Flora showed us. She made a choice. It was her decision. Brigid was right all along.”
“Technically,” Phoebe muttered.
“What the fuck, Mom! Are you completely incapable of admitting you’re wrong?”
“There’s more to the story!” Phoebe shot back. Then she caught herself. She wasn’t angry. Not really. The rage was little more than a cover. The truth she’d been hiding was shameful and sad. “After our mother died, Brigid and I were sent to live with our fathers. Your grandfather’s living situation was unusual, to say the least, and I was totally miserable. When Brigid was about to turn eighteen, I wrote to her and begged her to take custody of me. But Brigid was already off making movies and didn’t want the bother. We were mad at each other, sure. But I never expected her to abandon me when I needed her most.”
Sibyl wasn’t convinced. “Brigid told you she didn’t want to help you?”
“No, her stepmother did.”
Sibyl groaned audibly. “You took someone else’s word about something that important? Have you considered actually askingBrigidif it was true?”
Phoebe’s silence was answer enough.
“You know, keeping this shit to yourself all these years hasn’t helped anyone,” Sibyl said. “Now that we’re all here, it’s time to geteverything out in the open. Is there anything else that you’ve been holding back for the last three decades?”
