The Confidant

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Adelaide

“This place is way too fancy,” I protest with a glance at my jeans and tank top.

I felt just fine at home. I did my hair and put on a little makeup. I purposely chose this shirt because it displays my chest tattoo—a not-subtle sign that I’m here as myself, and they can like it or leave the table.

“The food is good,” Poe shrugs a shoulder. “Murphy loves it here.”

“You’ve been here before?” I roll my eyes, trying not to laugh.

“Shh,” he whispers close to my ear. “Racer was in the car last time. You’re going to make it madder.”

I snort and get a lot of curious glances that make me feel uneasy. I used to be okay in crowds. That’s a thing of the past for now. Thankfully, this place is busy with enough space to make it peaceful, and people turn back to their meals quickly.

A hostess approaches us with a polite smile and asks if it’s just the two of us.

“A table for two for me. She’s looking for the Broussards,” Poe answers without looking at her. His pouting over my insistence that he not be seen by any of the family is cute. He sounds back to his normal, closed-off self.

The hostess is gorgeous. Maybe I can get a little laugh out of him before this night goes to hell.

“He’s married.” I show the hostess my wedding ring and smirk as if I’m insanely jealous and proud to be that way. I can see Poe struggling not to smile.

The girl takes in my smile and returns it with an eye roll. “I’m engaged.”

The diamond she flashes me is perfect for her slender fingers. I ooh and ahh over it, getting distracted by chatting with her. Once she realizes I was joking around, she joins my excitement about her happy ever after.

“Siren,” Poe says with a sigh. “You’re delaying.”

“Nu-uh,” I lie with a frown. “We’re best friends now. She passed the possibly crazy, jealous wife test with flying colors. She’s natural best-wife-ever vibes in the flesh. Sit and stay, yappy dog.”

He cups the back of my head, pressing a hard kiss against my lips. “You have this handled, trash panda. Go in there and let them know the hate is stopping now, or they’re cut from the roster permanently.”

I pout and shuffle away from him. How dare he call me out in public?

“The Broussard party is in the back. And you want a separate table?” She looks at Poe in confusion.

“I’m her backup.” He gives her his intense stare along with the grim words. It makes her uncomfortable enough to start hurrying. He’s way too solemn to be carrying around a plush raccoon as a date.

A waiter takes over for her, leading Poe to a table set to the side. I catch him pulling out a chair for Racer like he does at home, and smile. It’s a little one because nerves are starting to make my hands shake. It feels like everyone is staring at me.

My family is in a back room with a closed door. This must be a personal hell right here.

“Enjoy your meal.” The girl opens the door with a pleased smile. I try to return it, but I feel pale and sweaty, not happy.

I walk in and take in the quiet chaos of the Broussards. I haven’t seen them all together in years.

Maman is sitting with her back to me at the head of the long table. Her hair is longer and streaked with gray that wasn’t there before. She and Daniella are whispering to each other with frowns. Suzette has her men wrapped around her fingers, keeping her comfortable on Maman’s left, next to Daniella. All three men are between the two sisters but turned to face their wife. I notice that Sophia, on the right next to Joseph, has a man beside her. He’s blond, too. A perfect fit for the family. There can be only one reason that someone outside the family is here, too. He’s marrying in.

I feel a pang as I think of Poe outside this room with Racer. It feels like he’s on another planet. A clear separation that I instigated myself.

Asher is at the foot of the table with a clear view of the doors. He’s next to a petite brunette with wide, innocent eyes that sparkle and a distended belly. The two men seated on her other side are watching the subdued conversations around them cautiously.

Asher stood up as soon as I slipped through the doors, his icy scowl on point. I repress the sigh building up and glance around for a chair. The only one left is between Asher and Suzette.

“Addie… what?” He chokes up, the usual frosty attitude cracking as he takes me in.

“Oh my God! What did you do to your hair?” Suzette pipes up with a gasp.

I glance at her with a blank look. Their voices have drawn attention to me. Something that I don’t want. Part of me was convinced I could sneak in and stay quiet, unnoticed, until this farce ended. That part is now huddling in shame at being wrong.

Silence falls as Broussards turn to stare with wide eyes. The silent judgment on their faces somehow doesn’t hurt as much. I’ve removed myself so far from them emotionally that it has less impact. I’m a little scared that it can change in seconds. One good verbal barb would do it.

I stay quiet, not eagerly gushing about my hair or explaining why I’m late like I always used to do just to ease their tension. I’d rather let them sit there with their opinions of me unvoiced instead.

Suzette looks awkwardly around her at all the frozen people.

“It looks good,” she offers after a second. “Like a raccoon tail.”

“You decided that was your best outfit for seeing family?” Maman asks in a tight voice.

My tank top reveals my tattoos, she means. It likely doesn’t help that the raccoon on the front of it is holding a kitchen knife with the quote, “Try me,” on it.

I don’t bother looking at her or replying. I’m basically here under duress. I don’t want to interact any more than I have to. Let them stare at my hair. Let them make useless comments about me as if I’m scum. This will be the last conversation I have with any of them.

That knowledge cuts me inside, but I have to keep going.

Asher moves toward me, his arms starting to come up as if he wants to hug me.

My heart leaps in surprise before it falls again.

No way would he hug me. If I fling myself at him now, I’ll just embarrass myself and give everyone else more space to mock how close I used to think we were.

I slide into the seat as if I don’t see him standing there.

I get a moment to see bewildered hurt cross his face. For a second, I want to say I’m sorry. I don’t want him hurt, especially by me.

I swallow that down, too. He’s proven that he doesn’t care if he hurts me . I’ve had him silently reject my hugs for a lifetime.

I’m done sacrificing my happiness.

Asher clears his throat and retakes his seat, leaning toward me with a frown as if he’s ready to gossip. Suzette does the same on my other side. If I look up from the tabletop, I’m face to face with Asher’s Tera. And that baby bump I’ve been longing to see. I’m in defense mode instead of attack. I have to keep myself locked down tight, or I might start crying.

“Where have you been? Are you ok?” Asher asks in a tight voice. He’s still choked up, like before.

That concern would have been welcomed with open arms months ago. Now, it’s way too late to the game. It feels like some kind of platitude. An acknowledgement that I’ve hit hard times before they move on to a better subject.

“I’m fine,” I lie with a flat voice. I refuse to look away from the table.

Suzette tries to say something, but Maman interrupts her.

“You had Asher all wound up with your disappearing act.”

Here we go. They get what they want from me, and it’s still a problem. Figures.

“Maman,” Asher says in a warning tone with a frosty glare. It’s the same voice he uses to drive women away.

“What, baby?” Maman asks with raised brows. His sending her that look is new, and she doesn’t appreciate it. “She just wants attention. Look at her hair. The way she’s dressed. What more do you need?”

“She looks comfortable.” Suzette crosses her arms over her chest, her dark blue eyes narrowed on her.

I’m dressed as I usually am. This is nothing new. She’s just never seen me shuck the uptight clothes before.

“What’s wrong with how she’s dressed?” One of the men from Asher’s cake asks, looking bewildered. A Hispanic man who looks like a brick wall that scowls a lot. The kind that would make the riddles impossible to answer, so you can’t pass him to the other side. Since Asher never told me his name, I’m calling him Sprinkles.

Maman glances at him in a dismissive way that grates my nerves. It’s just plain disrespectful the way she treats people. I know why, too.

She has them in her sights. She’s trying to ruin the cake.

“I don’t appreciate all that body art nonsense,” she tells him as if she’s a teacher and he’s an unruly student.

He raises a brow and makes a big show of slowly turning his head to stare at Asher.

His throat tattoos aren’t subtle. I made them more detailed to hide a few marks that he’d been covering up with his hair when it was longer. He purposely keeps the locks unkempt as a holdover from when he would hide behind them.

“How strange. It’s ok for Ashy-poo but not big sis?”

I blink, my eyes widening as I watch the drama he’s enacting right in front of me. I have to roll my lips in to keep from laughing. I bite down when Asher gives him a frigid go-to-hell stare that means business, and he grins back as if he’s innocent. He’s a feisty one. Definitely Sprinkles.

“My baby would never have gotten those without her influence,” Maman insists.

That’s true. I talked him into the first one. Just one tiny flower. A rose. We went cliche with it. After that, it was all downhill with as many types of flowers as we could find.

“Besides, now that everyone can see that she’s perfectly fine, we can get down to why we’re here.” Maman gives Asher a sweet smile that screams you’re not going to like this, but it’s for the best .

“I was under the impression we were here to help Adelaide.” The friendly smile of Sprinkle’s boyfriend is on point and missing something at the same time. I recognize a mask when I see one. Yup, this is Frosting. The cover for when they need something sweet to look at, with no idea if it’s as hard as a rock.

“Help her?” Daniella leans forward to look at Frosting with a raised brow. “She made a mess, and she can clean it up herself. She can try being an adult for a change.”

Silence falls as people glance at each other. No one seems sure what to say. A few people look my way, waiting for me to spill what’s been going on with my life. How I’m fixing things so Maman can pick it apart piece by piece. She’s even staring at me as if she’s waiting for my excuses.

I don’t bother opening my mouth, which makes her lips thin.

Sophia clears her throat and gives me an awkward smile, eager to distract everyone from their rising tension. “Addie, I’d like you to meet Brad. Brad, this is Addie.” There’s a significant pause before she adds on with a growing sense of joy she can’t hide. “He’s my One.”

She turns to the man, and they share a giddy smile, clasping hands on the table. Maman looks on with an affectionate expression, a complete switch from how she stared at me a second ago.

I kind of figured that out on my own. I wasn’t expecting how hard a hit I would take when I heard it. The way Maman simply believes in Sophia without any type of judgment. The fact that she’s allowed to be happy about it without any reserve, and everyone accepts it without question.

I’ll never get that. I’ll never be able to bring Poe into this room and introduce him with a wide grin. The thought of doing it now scares me. I don’t want him exposed to them any more than he already has been.

Nobody else reacts to the news. Seems everybody else already knew all about it. I doubt I would have known at all whether I had blocked them or not.

“Congratulations,” I smile in a stiff way that feels unnatural. I mean the words, but I can’t put much oomph into it when my man is outside this room waiting for me. “When did you meet?”

The social nicety falls out of me without much thought. Sophia introduced him, and it was my turn to be polite and show interest. It’s weird not to celebrate it with her. I should be running around the table to give her a fat hug and shake her around. I keep that urge tightly under wraps for my own sense of peace.

It’s the right call because Sophia’s shoulders tense up at the innocent question. My stomach sinks as her eyes fall to the table with nerves.

“About six months ago.” She admits quietly with a guilty glance at her man.

Yup, another hit to the chest. She met him before I met Poe, and this is the first I’m hearing about it. The belated add-on to the good news when their disdain reaches me in nanoseconds.

Suzette was loud about finding her men because she was freaked out. Plus, she likes to talk. It’s probably the only reason I knew anything about it. Sophia is usually the same way, but not a word got leaked to me, even through Maman. That means she asked people to keep it quiet from me specifically.

My complete lack of surprise seems to make her feel more guilty. When she glances up at me to check how mad I am, I go back to looking at the table. That’s as far as my social pleasantries are willing to extend, and it’s a relief to drop the subject. I’ve stopped arguing with their decisions to keep me out of their loops. I’m exhausted from wasting my time on it.

“You didn’t tell her? You were bragging nonstop for weeks, and Addie doesn’t even know ?” Asher asks in disbelief. Tera reaches out and puts her hand over his clenched fist on the table. Unconsciously, his hand loosens to allow her fingers to slip between his. She looks upset on my behalf as she glances around the table.

Of course, Sophia didn’t tell me. I’d be jealous and move back home to steal her man or something. Whatever excuse they can come up with to keep me away is good for them.

Why the hell invite me to this place at all? Through some kind of hoodoo, at that. What a waste of everyone’s time.

There’s a pause as if I’m supposed to fill up the silence. I would have if this had been months ago. I would have been throwing a fit. I’m good with watching them stew in their awkwardness instead. I actually get a kick out of it. Who knew staying quiet would make them focus on their own idiotic assumptions?

Brad glances at me, bewildered. “I thought you said you told your whole family.”

My lips twitch into a bitter smirk. She pretty well did, Brad. I’m not one of them.

Sophia winces and looks at Daniella, the oldest, for help.

“That means I’m next to find my One.” Daniella gives Maman a huge, excited grin. Maman doesn’t hesitate to agree. They start chattering about ways to meet her unicorn of a man, getting sidetracked.

“Unless Addie beats you to it.” Sophia gives me a hopeful smile.

The sight of it makes a feeling of helpless rage stir. None of them thinks I’ll have a soulmate. Why continue pretending? This fake-as-hell pandering is pointless.

Her bid to gain my forgiveness with lies earns her a disgusted look from me. I register her shock at my reaction and shake my head, turning my eyes back to the table.

“We’re just glossing over everything?” Suzette asks in horror. Her disbelief at my lack of theatrics has her staring at me with wide eyes. “No being pissed off and making her apologize for being an ass?”

Like she would apologize for anything. Maman will back her up no matter what if I open my mouth. It will somehow end up with me apologizing for losing my cool.

“Suzette,” Maman gives her a stern glare that has her wilting in her seat. “You know why she didn’t say anything.”

“ I sure as hell don’t,” Asher spits through gritted teeth.

“You’re just out of the loop, baby,” Maman raises an amused brow at him. “Maybe if you called more, that wouldn’t happen.”

“I’m sitting right in front of you now, Maman. Fill me in.” The way he says it sounds ominous.

“I don’t want to embarrass anyone.” She gives Tera a pointed look.

She has a trump card against Asher, and she isn’t afraid to use it. That doesn’t bode well for him.

It looks like if I had kept my mouth shut years ago, I would have figured things out a lot faster. All this sweet tea is spilling out as they defend themselves without my interference.

Asher opens his mouth, his expression frigid, when Joseph interrupts.

“Slow down, son.” He holds out a hand, his attention on Sophia. “You didn’t tell your sister about Brad? That’s one of the rudest things I’ve ever heard, Sophia.”

“I didn’t want her to be upset, Pa,” Sophia says, staring at him with wide eyes. No one wants to make Joseph mad at them.

They call him Pa without reserve. A father they chose without hesitation, and he chose them back with ease. I never had the right to call him that.

I’m relieved about it now instead of hurt. He’s on the outskirts of my life and always has been. His loss isn’t as painful as it could have been otherwise. He’s just a man who married a woman with kids to feed. Not my business anymore.

“Addie would never be upset at you finding happiness,” Asher protests with a boatload of disbelief that surprises me.

Let this show carry on. I’ll sit back and watch for once.

No one says anything back to him. His eyes wander around the table until they land on me, still staring at nothing. I don’t bother touching the menu. I’m not interested in eating around these people. I might puke at the hypocrisy.

“Only you would think that. Because you get all the positives from her while we get the dramatic crap,” Daniella remarks with a roll of her eyes and gestures at my relaxed form like I’m committing a crime.

Asher straightens in his seat, his expression going from fiery to cold in a snap.

“We’ve been hiding a few things from you, Ash,” Sophia admits, her eyes moving to me with an apology written in them.

I don’t acknowledge her. Whatever story she’s about to spill doesn’t come out as she stares at me. She starts to look worried. My unusual lack of action over this crap isn’t in their script.

Maman bursts their tension with a grim tone. “She’s been doing her art all over anyone with scars and making a big show of it. We didn’t want you to find out. How do you think she would market something like that? Get attention for it?”

Asher raises a brow, settling back in his seat to cross his arms. He doesn’t act surprised to hear this, but I’m confused.

Maman said she had talked to him about it before this. That he was pissed off about it and wanted his pictures ripped up. That was the reason he canceled the last dinner I held out hope for. Isn’t it? Or is this another thing Maman lied about?

“Survivors of Tragedy is the organization. They did all the promoting, and it was very subtle. Something they didn’t want shared in the open,” Tera supplies helpfully. She gets nervous when everyone looks at her. Even I look up with a frown of confusion. Her shoulders bow in as if she’s ready for someone to attack her. It makes my brows furrow deeper in suspicion.

“You didn’t want me to know she’s helping people?” Asher raises a judgmental brow, getting the attention away from Tera and back on him.

I recognize the cover even if no one else does. He’s shielding her from them so she can relax.

I’m watching Tera closely now. If she knows, she’s a member, right? I can picture it with her timid behavior. Should I warn her about this family?

No. My meddling won’t help, and I doubt she would believe me.

“You call that helping?” Maman looks at Asher like he’s crazy. “Showing people cutting themselves up for attention?”

I feel all the blood drain out of my face at the casual mention of my pain. The results of her comment don’t matter to her one bit. Who cares if I hurt myself? It’s not like I’m a person to her.

“What?” Joseph looks at me in confusion. “You took a picture of someone’s scars and showed it? Adelaide.”

The censure in his tone heaps more pain on me. My whole body tenses up, a lot like Tera’s.

Everyone is staring at me awkwardly and trying not to. The glances in my direction and the uncomfortable shifting in their seats show they know what she said was a low blow aimed right at me. They know that was a picture of me, but they’re too dignified for an outright accusation.

Not a single person speaks out in my defense. There aren’t any bids to get the attention somewhere else. They let all the focus stay on me to wallow in my emotions. I guess they're expecting me to explain to them something I can barely put into words.

Until Tera’s panicked voice breaks the silent judgment.

“Cutting isn’t for attention. It has to do with tension. Relieving pressure. Or having control. It’s when someone feels an emotion they can’t let out. Like screaming without making a single sound, so you don’t bother anybody. I’ve been reading all about it,” Tera’s wide eyes trained on me. Her expression is sweet but fierce.

This sudden defense has me staring at her in surprise. Asher’s angel is backing me up without a second thought, while everyone else judges me with hate.

I stare at this woman I don’t know. Asher hasn’t even introduced her to me yet. She meets my gaze as if she’s encouraging me to talk. There isn’t any pity in her eyes. Just a solemn acceptance of something not many people understand and a willingness to help. She put everything into a string of words that I never could. She offers me a trembling, hopeful smile. I can’t do anything but return it as tears fill my eyes.

“You’re too sweet for this world, child,” Maman says with a kind sigh.

I nod, totally agreeing with her for once. Unfortunately, Maman continues.

“But that doesn’t change the facts. She used Asher to make herself some money. Off the back of my baby’s experience and pain. That disgusting picture was for shock value. I doubt it was even real.”

My eyes widen in horror, and my mouth drops open. Tera, across from me, mirrors my expression.

I can’t believe she said that. She just outed Asher’s abuse to the whole table without a thought. My eyes dart to Asher to see how he’s faring, and I cringe.

His expression is completely shut down. He might as well be a block of ice. Meanwhile, Tera has paled, and the rest of the cake looks absolutely furious. Most of the people who married into the family look confused and ready to ask questions.

“They think I’m jealous of everyone finding their soulmates,” I blurt out to Brad, the most likely target to be a good distraction. My mouth has gone on autopilot. I can’t fix what Maman just broke, but I can distract with the best of them. “And that I’m pushing my way into people’s lives to be a part of the action.”

That does it nicely.

“Because you are,” Daniella scoffs to keep it going as Maman’s eyes narrow on me. Sophia gives me a grateful look that slaps some sense into me.

This isn’t what I came here for. I regret even showing up. More now than ever before.

I’d like to say I’m not surprised at her accusations against me, but it would be a lie. Hearing it over the phone is one thing. Having her blatantly say it in front of a group of people without any shame is another.

It’s one thing to have my past thrown in my face. To pretend that my pain isn’t real. I expect nothing less from any of them.

Asher? He deserves better.

He’s lived a life few people understand, and it’s also no one else’s business how he copes with it.

How dare she do this to him?

But why does he deserve better? I mean, I know why , but why can’t I have a break, too? Is it because I set myself up just like this? To get the attention off Asher so he can relax? Have I done this to myself all along, and everyone else just fell in with it?

Daniella’s instant grab of the verbal baton says they have.

Why am I setting myself up for this?

I deserve better. I don’t have to throw myself under a bus and apologize to it once it runs me over.

It’s like an epiphany that hits me all at once.

I don’t have to change anything about myself. I like myself as I am. I got rid of the blonde clone hairstyle, and this fits me a lot better. I did it because I thought I’d like it. Not for them, for me . That’s who I’m supposed to be focusing on. I lost sight of that as soon as I walked in the door.

I look at Maman and really see her for once. Face to face with her clueless viciousness. She has no idea what she just did or how it would affect Asher or anyone else. She just wanted to browbeat us all into submission so she’d have control. With the hate back on me, everyone else is safe. I’ve naturally fallen back into the role she wants me in.

Have I really let this hateful woman wear me down? Because she bears the title of Maman when she doesn’t deserve it from me?

I’m suddenly getting the itch to draw something. Maybe her hateful face on a trash can with a raccoon posed to kick it the hell over.

I haven’t had the urge to draw for months. Now, my fingers are tingling, remembering the feel of the tattoo gun in my hand and missing it with everything in me.

The surprise of it makes me want to run out and tell Poe. If nothing else comes from this dinner, I’m still winning something.

This is just what I needed to square up against them. My backbone has finally snapped into place.

“Apologize to your brother, girlie,” Maman continues while I bask in rebellious joy.

This is when I follow our script to the end and apologize for her accusations, just to get everyone calm again. But, I’m no longer her girlie , and it’s time she knew it. Let them see how vile and hateful they are without me trying to cover it up and take all the blame. Maybe, for once, they’ll see themselves and make their own changes. I won’t hold my breath for it, and I’m not sticking around to see the results.

I’m setting this burden down. I don’t need to hold it up anymore. I never did.

I look at her with a smile that’s a little bit smug and a lot chaotic. “For what? The only true thing I’ve done to him is not show up for one dinner. I couldn’t have been busy? He’s blown me off several times. If he doesn’t care enough to text me that he can’t make it without prompting, why should I? Fair’s always been fair for you Broussards, hasn’t it, Valerie? I’m just practicing what you preach to your babies. I’m treating others how they treat me. At least I have the guts to admit it.”

It’s like a record just got scratched so loud it echoes in the silence that falls. The sudden flip from my desperate distraction to my mockery seems to surprise everyone. The normal reactions to my anticipated drama get suspended. Everyone is staring at me with shock-filled, wide eyes.

My tone alone would get me scolded. Throwing all her self-righteous teachings back in her face might have gotten my butt beat. But no one calls Maman by her first name unless they mean business.

Well, guess what? I mean it.

I can’t think of her as a mother in any respect anymore. To the rest of them, sure. To me? The only things she’s ever done for me were the basic necessities to keep a child alive. Food, shelter, water, and education. I could have gotten that in foster care.

Gone is the image of a woman who struggled for her children and provided love and support. That stopped for me when I was a child.

It hits me at that moment that I didn’t just lose one parent that day. I lost both. My whole family, from beginning to end, one tiny piece at a time. I’ve been mourning the loss from day one and only now figured it out. I felt guilty, as if the whole thing had been my fault. The abuse, the arrest, and everything that came after. All because I was a cruel man’s favorite child. It’s time to let it rest, and if it doesn’t, I will make it rest.

“What did you just say to me?” She asks, sounding breathless and wide-eyed in disbelief.

It’s funny that any arguing or shouting never amounted to anything in her eyes. She could brush all that off and steamroll through. Being called by her given name has pressed pause on her. If I had known that before, my life might have been different.

“Addie, I’m sorry,” Asher interrupts quickly. “I had good reasons for every single time I didn’t answer. I swear to you.”

I’m not falling for this distraction. She wants all the negative attention on me. I’m going to give them a real reason for it.

“But I can’t have a good reason, can I, Valerie? I can be left out of your loops and get blamed for it because your babies are too pansy-assed to take what they dish out to others with both hands. I can’t miss a phone call or a text, even when they don’t come.” I raise both brows as if I’m realizing something. “Oh, yeah. I forgot I’m not allowed excuses at the Broussard’s table. I’m supposed to shut up and swallow all of your hate with a smile and an apology because I’m not like any of you. I’m only good enough to be your target when things don’t go your way. All because I look like a man you chose to marry.”

I’ve never seen them so shocked before. And they’re so quiet. They stare at me as if they’ve never seen me before when I’ve been right here all this time. A person instead of a scapegoat.

I keep going in my soft voice, determined to make her face her own hate. Maybe her children will follow suit.

“I don’t see you harping on Joseph for his anchor tattoo. Seems to me you thought it was sexy. The whole reason he caught your eye at first. And Daniella had a face chock-full of piercings at one point. Not one word. Sophia has a scorpion on her ass some other artist screwed up. Turn your hate on them for once. Oh, wait, you can’t, can you? They’re all natural blonds. What a big difference that makes, huh?”

Daniella blinks as if I’m a mirage. Sophia sinks down in her chair with burning cheeks and a look of guilt.

“Adelaide,” Joseph says in a warning tone, his eyes narrowing. “That’s your mother. Show some respect.”

I keep my eyes on Valerie, ignoring the rest of them. Everything starts with her. Once this string is cut, the rest of them will fall away, too. I don’t need to spread this out when the one constant spewer of venom is right in front of me.

“That monster is not my mother,” my voice tries to crack before I firm it up again, lifting my chin. “She stopped being that a long time ago, and I’m finally catching up to it. All it took was the news that I’m not enough of a Broussard to start the ball rolling. I did exactly what she wanted and started thinking hard about my life. I’ve finally realized that the only thing that devil has ever felt for me is hate, and she spread it to her babies like a disease. I’m done with it. And the rest of you, too. You can all find another scapegoat for every time you feel angry or need the focus on someone else, so you can get out of one of her rants. I’m tired of getting crushed under all of your cloven hooves, and I’m no longer picking up the demeaning phone calls, no matter who gets badgered into harassing me. The hoodoo text crap won’t work on a new number.”

I look around the table, taking in all the disbelieving, guilty looks one last time. They have the balls to stare back as if I’m the one who betrayed them . Valerie is pale and ragged. Nothing like the overbearing, downright pompous figure from when I first walked in. It’s like she aged ten years right in front of me.

When my eyes meet Tera’s, the stark guilt and horror there give me pause. This girl deserves so much better. She shouldn’t have to witness this. All I can do is throw out some advice that I hope she’ll take to heart.

“Don’t trust any of these demons, petite . Not one. You keep an eye on your cake and forget the rest. They can only take from you what you let them. The second they start throwing out hate, because they will , you walk away. For your own peace.”

“What are you talkin’ about? I don’t hate on anyone,” Maman asks, and for the first time, she sounds weak, her accent slipping out on accident. As if the air got punched out of her lungs, and she’s shocked it was my fist that did it.

I scoff and give her a look of pure disbelief.

“Last time we talked, you had the guts to tell me I’m just like the disgusting piece of crap you screwed to make five kids, and you’re asking me for a refresher? Let me help you out. If you need a written reminder, take a look at all the texts you’ve ever sent me,” I tell her in a mocking tone. “Any time I feel guilty for not reaching out to a Broussard, all I have to do is read one. Just one sentence from any of you. Or I can take a look in the mirror and see the scum that fathered me since you were kind enough to point out several times that I look just like him. I have to be evil if I’m not blonde, right, Valerie? You constantly remind me of what I look like to a real Broussard. I stop feeling bad real quick after I think hard on that. My shop is gone. My art is gone. None of you will ever have to hear my hick voice or see me dye my hair. No more struggling to be seen as a part of your family. You got what you wanted after what? How many years have you been ripping me apart inside, so I’ll leave? With your babies following like little duckies, eager to please. Well, you can have your little celebration dinner about it without me. Especially when you want to talk about things you have no business bringing up. You’re so damn full of yourself you don’t care who you trample over to get your way.”

I stand up, feeling how hot my face is from trying to hold back tears and rage. It’s all barely in check, and I refuse to let this woman see me cry anymore.

All of the things they find shameful in me are out in the open now. I can’t hide how much that hurts me. I shouldn’t have to. They’re supposed to be the people who love me most. I should be able to talk to them without the happy mask I’ve been wearing for so long. They can see what’s underneath it and suck it up. They won.

And so did I. I’m finally walking away and meaning it.

“Addie,” Asher whispers in a weak tone I haven’t heard in a long time. I harden my heart against it. It feels so wrong. But I can’t see him letting me get away with everything I said. He loves his Maman. No one is supposed to talk bad about her. Even me.

“Adelaide, sit down. We should talk about this like adults.” Joseph stands in my way, looking confused. He’s looking at Valerie as if he needs a hint on how he should behave. Be gentle like with the other girls or be firm like with Asher.

“Like adults? How about we try sane first? I’ll tell you now that will never happen, Joseph,” I tell him with a scoff.

“You’re just being dramatic,” Valerie protests, proving my words. Her voice is starting to sound less sure. I finally caught her on her back foot, and she’s never backed down for anything. The fight will come back to her as soon as her hate does.

I give Joseph a raised, knowing brow and a smirk.

“Since you requested drama so nicely, I’ll give it to you with some final advice as the cherry on top. How’s this for dramatic?” I point at Asher’s group with a shaking finger that betrays all my inner turmoil and lean in to get closer to her face. Let her see how much she disgusts me for once, up close and personal. “Stop trying to wipe off the frosting and sprinkles before you ruin that fucking cake.”

Her eyes dart to Frosting and Sprinkles and widen. Then, they move to Suzette’s men.

“Yeah, I see you for the disgusting creature you are. You own that hate for once, Valerie ,” I sneer when her eyes meet mine again. “Swallow it down just like I had to most of my life, because it looks like that cake might force-feed you logic until you choke on your bullshit lies. And one of them is even blonde. I’m sure that stings extra for you.”

I use the distraction of her mouth gaping, silent for once, and leave before I break down.