Chapter 3When I Finally Stopped Loving You

"And what about me?" The scream ripped from the center of my chest, shattering the quiet night. "Am I not your daughter? Is Sienna the only child who counts as human to you?"

I lunged forward, desperate to look her in the eyes, to find some trace of the mother who had raised me.

Harrison moved instantly. His hand locked around my upper arm like a vice, wrenching me back with enough force to throw me off balance.

"Audrey, stop it!" he barked, his face dark with warning. "Have you lost your mind? What are you going to do, attack Sienna again? Did three years of hardship teach you nothing?"

Margaret pulled Sienna behind her, shielding the girl with her body as if I were a rabid stray. "Harrison, get this lunatic off the property! Look at her—she's completely unhinged. Don't let her near Sienna!"

Harrison’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into my bruised muscle. "Stand down, Audrey. Don't make me send you back to that boarding house. You really want to go through that again?"

"Go through what?" My voice cracked, raw and hollow. The wind seemed to blow straight through my ribs, freezing the space where my heart used to beat. "Tell me, Harrison—did you want me to learn a lesson, or did you just want me dead?"

Harrison froze for a fraction of a second, a flicker of hesitation crossing his dark eyes.

"You're twisting things," he muttered, though his grip loosened slightly. "Nobody wanted you dead. It was done for your own good. To ground you."

"For my own good?" I held up my right hand, shoving my mangled, crooked pinky finger toward his face. "Was crushing my hand in an unregulated assembly line for my own good, too?"

Harrison barely glanced at it, his lip curling in a scoff.

"Crushed? It looks fine to me, Audrey. Stop exaggerating. If I let go of your arm right now, you'd use that hand to slap Sienna across the face."

This was the man who, on our honeymoon in Lake Como, used to kiss every one of my knuckles while the sun rose over the water. You have concert pianist hands, he had whispered back then, promising to buy me a Steinway grand the moment our home was finished.

Now, he didn't even have the decency to look at the deformity his lies had created.

Footsteps pounded down the interior staircase, and Marcus burst onto the terrace.

"Marcus!" Sienna cried, burying her face into his chest the moment he appeared.

"I've got you, Sienna. You're safe," Marcus said, wrapping his arms around her with fierce protectiveness. Then he looked up at me, his eyes burning with a disgust so profound it knocked the remaining breath from my lungs.

"You want to know why?" Marcus sneered, stepping between me and the rest of them. "I'll tell you why. Sienna and I are Mom's children with the love of her life—her college sweetheart, the only man she ever wanted. You? You are the byproduct of the business arrangement she was forced into with your father. A loveless, miserable marriage she endured for funding."

Each syllable felt like a sledgehammer driving into my sternum.

Twenty-eight years. For twenty-eight years, I had believed I was the center of this family. I had believed Marcus was my big brother who would tear the world apart to keep me safe.

I was never family. I was a contractual obligation. An unwanted ghost born from an arranged union.

Margaret held Sienna close, stroking her hair. "Hush now, darling. Don't cry. Mama is right here. Nobody is going to hurt you..."

The three of them formed a fortress around Sienna, their faces unified in their hostility toward me.

I looked down at the flagstones.

The fire that had propelled me up the driveway suddenly snuffed out. The urge to demand answers, to scream, to force them to acknowledge the atrocity of what they had done—it all dissolved into an overwhelming, bone-deep exhaustion.

Nothing I said would pierce that wall. Nothing I did would ever make them see me as a daughter or a sister.

"Okay," I whispered.

Harrison raised an eyebrow, suspicious. "What kind of game are you playing now, Audrey?"

Marcus let out a harsh laugh. "Playing the broken victim? Please. You think we don't know your tricks?"

Margaret eyed me warily, keeping her arm hooked through Sienna's.

When I screamed, I was a madwoman who needed to be broken. When I stood down, I was a manipulator scheming for leverage. In their minds, my very existence was a crime; every breath I drew was an offense against their peace.

"Don't be mean," Sienna said softly from behind Marcus, her voice dripping with gentle magnanimity. "I think Audrey really understands now. We're all together tonight... why don't we let her come inside? Just for dinner."

Harrison’s jaw relaxed slightly. He glanced at me, his tone magnanimous. "You can come in. On Sienna's grace."

I walked through the foyer of my childhood home.

The layout was the same, but the soul had been scrubbed clean. The potted orchids I used to tend on the bay window sill had been replaced with modern brass sculptures. The alcove where my mother had kept my baby pictures now held portraits of Sienna’s graduation in London.

There was no trace of Audrey Holloway anywhere in this house.

In the dining room, the table was set for four.

Sienna moved to pull an extra mahogany chair from the corner, but Harrison immediately caught her elbow, scolding her gently. "Don't lift heavy things, Sienna. Sit down." He turned to me, his voice returning to its cool, executive tone. "There's no place set. Just stand there."

He reached into his leather briefcase resting on the credenza and pulled out a thick document, sliding it across the polished walnut table until it tapped against my fingers.

I looked down.

It was a legal guardianship and full custody agreement.