“Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm? Poor thing.”
She pressed a cloth to the cut on my lip — too hard, too long, like she enjoyed the way I flinched. I hissed in pain, but she only laughed.
“You know,” she said, pressing down even harder, “you’ll never be enough for this family. Got it? Never. Not when you’re nothing but a little seductress stealing what was mine.”
My voice cracked. “I never stole him. You left—”
She slapped a hand over my mouth, nails digging into my cheek. “Shut up. I went for my dreams. You think you’re special because you were the perfect replacement? Look where that got you.”
She pulled out a battered lunchbox, flipping it open so the stale smell hit my nose immediately. “Eat,” she said, voice too bright. “I made it myself. Don’t be ungrateful.”
She shoved a spoon toward my lips, and I realized it was shrimp. My throat closed up on instinct — I was allergic. I turned my head away, but Nadia’s grip on my jaw was iron.
“Eat it, Lauren! Don’t be dramatic now. Eat it!” she hissed, jabbing the spoon against my lips until the shrimp touched my tongue. My stomach turned, bile rising up so fast I nearly choked.