“Let it go, will you? I’m not going to cold-call random producers, hunting for roles I don’t want. When the right part comes along, I’ll know it.”
“You foolish, foolish girl.” She’s trembling with outrage. “I raised you to become someone extraordinary. Imagine my surprise to find, when you finally get the chance, you’d rather remain utterly unremarkable.”
I flinch.
Coldness settles over my heart as I stare at the woman who raised me.
You are worth more than this, a voice whispers from the back of my mind. It’s frail and faint, barely audible over the roar of self-doubt, but it’s there.You deserve better than a mother who lacks the capacity for love. Her failings are not yours.
I straighten to my full height, thinking about everything she’s done to me over the years. The harsh words. The constant criticism. And, above all, the toxic inability to love me, even in those undeniable moments when a girl simply needs a mother —anymother. Even a bad one.
First crush, first kiss, first period, first breakup.
Cynthia wanted no part in any of that. Her interests were far more aligned with practical things.
How many pirouettes did you do today?
Stand in front of the mirror and do fifty more.
How did your audition go?
Next time, wear the shirt that shows more cleavage.
It’s no wonder I’m so fucked up. Irreparably damaged. Unfixable.
She poisoned me from the first breath. She made me feel like I was worthless long before I even realized there might be an alternative theory.
But… My hands creep up to my stomach as an inexplicable protective feeling swells inside me.She will never do that to my child. She will not come near this fragile little life inside me, inflicting a fresh horror story on a blank slate.
I swear on it with my every thumping heartbeat.
“Leave,” I say softly. “Get away — from my house, from my life. I don’t want you here.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m your family. You don’t get to just cut me out when it’s convenient for you. I’m your mother—”
“No, you aren’t. As of this moment, we are officially done. If you come near me again, I’ll tell a judge you threatened my welfare and take out a restraining order against you.”
Surprise flashes in her eyes. “You cannot be serious.”
“Oh, but I am.”
She shakes off my words. “Katharine, this is absurd. I’m not leaving until we’ve—”
“Masters!” I call.
He steps out of the shadows by the car and appears at my side in an instant. “Miss Firestone?”
“I’m going inside.” My voice is small but stubborn. “Please make sure Cynthia doesn’t follow me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Katharine! Don’t you walk away from me!” My mother calls, furious.
My feet never falter as I walk to the security gate.
“This isn’t over! Do you hear me, Katharine! This isnotover.”
I hear her struggling with Masters as I punch in the code and walk slowly up my driveway.