Chapter Six Aubrey
Chapter Six
Aubrey
My grand entrance played out exactly as planned.
The women didn’t disappoint. They squirmed and tried to appear calm in the uncomfortable courtroom pews. They shared quick,
terror-filled glances. Their panic raged and snarled like a wild beast until it swept around them in a tightening circle,
choking off the air.
Surprise, ladies!
Each of them had a role to play in my budding masterpiece. Back then, they fumbled around in their little games. Jumped to
do my parents’ bidding. Now, they would do mine.
Stella, Marni, and Hanna. The formers. All pretend allies. Parasites feeding off the flesh of my dead family’s infamy. Each one of them was an ex-something—friend,
therapist, employee. All liars. It was the one skill they excelled at.
Marni being Mom’s former best friend even though Marni didn’t realize the former part until it was too late.
My former “therapist,” Stella, who had been thirty or close to that when she’d gotten her degree and decided to practice her incompetency on me.
For her current patients’ sakes, I hoped her skills had improved since then.
That she’d attended some sort of training.
My cousin. She broke the rules to make Gramps happy. Passed on what she thought were my secrets. She sucked even as a pretend therapist. It’s a good thing I never told her the truth.
Then there was Hanna. The one who flitted in and out of our house and Dad’s private office for years like she belonged there.
The baby momma who acted oh so innocent and shocked at every little thing. She was the one to watch. The others viewed her
as weak. Acted like they had to drag her along and explain simple things to her. They got it wrong. Hanna had a spine. She
just had to find it.
These bitches downplayed the importance of the Tanner name while soaking up the attention and security it provided. They acted
as if they held some sort of power. They’d fooled themselves into thinking they ran the show.
Wrong. I set the rules of this game. I had a goal. Their job was to help me reach it and sacrifice themselves in the process.
Even at fifteen I’d been smarter than them. More resourceful. Infinitely more capable of doing what needed to be done. Now
I was older. Ready. Tired of them.
This time I was in charge. They would learn that soon enough.