Page 33 of Receiving His Mercy
Sympathy filled Brenna’s face.
“But she just hid it better back then, I guess.”
“I just wanted to tell you that she talks about you a lot and much of it isn’t that nice. You shouldn’t take it to heart, though. I was going to say it was likely due to the disease.”
“I get it,” she whispered. “Believe me, I really do. I’m mainly just here to check on this place and on you, I guess. Sorry, no insult intended. You seem very good at your job.”
And she knew it had to be one of the hardest jobs there was.
“Thank you. And I totally understand. Come on, she’s in her room. She doesn’t really like to get out and socialize, which is a shame.”
“She was never much of a socializer,” Caren told her. “She was a workaholic.”
“Ahh, yes, she likes to give us some insights into our behavior and personalities. It’s been . . . enlightening.”
“Take it with a heavy grain of salt. I mean, I’m sure you do.”
“We do.” Brenna stopped outside a door, taking Caren in.
Caren gave her a nod and then followed her into a large room that felt kind of cramped due to the enormous piano in the corner.
God. Her stomach dropped. She hadn’t expected to see the piano. She could still remember the lessons. It was the one time her mother had taken an interest in her.
And God, she wished she hadn’t.
Her knuckles still had faint scars from when she’d made them bleed with her ruler. Her mother was a very intelligent woman with a high level of education.
And yet, she’d thought using corporal punishment would help Caren become a better pianist. Instead, she’d been terrorized to the point of being crippled with anxiety and fear every time a lesson had rolled around.
So seeing it right in that moment wasn’t great for her mood or her ability to speak.
Fear held her immobile as Brenna moved into the room to where her mother sat on a high-backed velvet chair. It was very throne-like, very much her mother.
Caren forced herself not to look at the piano.
You have this. You’re strong. Independent.
And this woman cannot hurt you anymore.
She has no power. You have all the power.
Not that she would use her power for evil. She wasn’t like this bitch.
No way.
“Morning, Martha,” Brenna said. “Did you enjoy your breakfast?”
“It was terrible. This hotel service is awful and I would like to see your manager immediately.”
Her mother’s voice struck her hard, sending her spiralling back to when she was younger.
You are so stupid.An absolute disgrace to this family. How your father and I managed to create such a foolish, ridiculous child I will never know.
Why won’t you learn? I try to teach you over and over again and still you don’t learn. Perhaps some pain will help sharpen your mind.
Think of this as a lesson for the greater good. Does pain help or hinder a child?
Really, stop crying, I didn’t hurt you that badly.
