Page 97 of Wicked Salvation
I’m not who they say I was.
I’m not who I thought I was.
Everything—the parties, the faith, the expectations—they weren’t mine to begin with. I never felt Evelyn’s love because shedidn’t love me. I was just a reminder that her sister managed to get pregnant before her, forever tying herself to the man she wanted for herself.
I was a placeholder that became the bane of her existence.
My legs nearly give out. I brace myself against the table. Cold sweat starts to wash me again. No one moves, they only watch—my father with eyes so concerned as if he’s afraid I might break if he touches me.
“I hate you,” I whisper. “Both of you.”
My father lowers his head. But Evelyn, she doesn’t flinch. Instead, there’s a passiveness on her face that I can only liken to relief. For all her theatrics, I’m sure she’s happy that it’s all out in the open now. I’m not her daughter.
I’m her niece.
It’s perfectly acceptable to hate your niece.
Your daughter? Not so much.
My mind is unravelling. My pulse is wild. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am. But I know where I need to go. I know who I need.
“I’m going back to Augustine,” is all I say before leaving the room.
I take my mother’s journal with me.
It’s all I have left of the woman who gave birth to me. The woman whose face I wear every day. The woman my father fell in love with. I knew he only said those things because Evelyn was present. But my mother’s journals were filled with love letters written in his elegant script. I know men lie, buthewasn’t lying.
He proposed to my mother first.
But Evelyn—ever the scheming snake—managed to weasel her way in between them with lies and secrets. Her plan worked spectacularly well.
Until my mother realized she was pregnant.
As I walk back to my room, I think of burning the whole house down.
But I won’t. Instead I’ll pack my bags and head to Augustine to find the only person who ever looked at me like my fire didn’t scare them.
XXI
LUCIAN
Tyne left hours ago.
Now, night clings to my cottage like a bruise. Fog curls low along the hedgerows, smothering the moonlight. The only sound as I round the bend is the faint rustle of wind through the trees. She had convinced me to get something to eat.
I went reluctantly—I haven’t had the appetite for anything other than revenge recently. But my plan is finished. All I can do now is wait.
Wait for the backlash.
Wait for the institution to finally collapse.
Wait forher.
It crossed my mind to call on her in London—her entire family must be in shambles, especially that witch of a mother she has—but I didn’t think I’d be well-received. To be honest, I’m not even sure what Eden thinks of me.
All I wanted was for her to break up with Silas, to finally choose herself.
And as much as it hurts, if that means that I won’t be able to call her mine, then I’ll accept it. As long as she’s happy and livingher life to the fullest. As long as she knows how much she’s loved and…
