28. Claire
28
CLAIRE
“ I t’s her time.”
The words stop me in my tracks.
Daddy and Arris are locked in a heated conversation in Daddy’s office. Again.
This time, I’m careful. I fit my body against the hallway wall and listen in quietly.
There’s a brief silence from Arris. When he speaks again, his voice has a low urgency to it. “She’s of age,” Arris continues. “She’s trained for this. She’s ready to be the Belleflower Queen.”
My heart beats a small drum against my rib cage. The rush of blood makes me dizzy.
This is it. I was right. This is my year .
I don’t move. I don’t breathe. I wait, strangled by the noose of my own nerves, for Daddy to give his answer.
He responds with a single, curt: “No.”
This must be how people feel when they take a buckshot to the chest. This impossibly heavy, deep punch that rips out your insides and leaves you in tatters.
Arris tries again. “Randall…you can’t keep her forever.”
“She’s not ready.” A page turns. Daddy’s already unplugging from the conversation. “Next year.”
Next year . This isn’t hope. This is sinking. This is being pulled down to the bottom of the lake by the own heaviness in my heart.
Next year, next year, next year. It’s always later.
I’m never enough.
I’m never going to be enough.
I don’t have any tears to shed. There’s nothing but emptiness inside of me as I drift, zombie-like, away from the study and downstairs.