Chapter 6
“DOLLHOUSE” BY MELANIE MARTINEZ
When I reached the top of the stairs, I peered inside my daughter’s bedroom and leaned against the doorway.
Her bedroom was only a few down from mine.
I stopped allowing her to sleep in my room after I saved enough money to order cameras through Erica’s phone.
I didn’t want anyone to know I kept a close eye on Estelle in private.
It was the arrangement I had to make, knowing this family’s constant bipolar behavior in protecting blood.
Family was important only when it was convenient. Learned that shit from my father, and he learned that from his elders.
Estelle was talkative now. She had my grandmother’s eyes and her father’s stupid grin.
It was the one thing I put up with with Duke.
He had this silly, broad smile that made such an adorable feature on my little girl’s face.
She loved animals. She enjoyed coloring.
She loved mocking my every fucking word.
She was more like Duke than I wanted to admit.
And part of me was grateful for that.
I closed the door behind me and sank down beside her bed.
She was three years old, and I still had a crib in her bedroom.
Mom had tried to get me to put her in the big kid bed across the room, but I wasn’t ready.
I didn’t care if she was ready or not. If she rolled out of the bed because she was used to laying along the bars, then I didn’t think I could forgive myself.
I promised myself I wouldn’t push her into something she wasn’t ready for, not like my father had pushed me and Anastasia to a breaking point.
Estelle’s cheek pressed against the thick bars of the crib, her chubby cheek smooshed. I delicately brushed the back of my fingers against her warm skin. She was so soft. I loved cuddling with her late at night, watching Bluey and listening to her quiet, bubbly giggles until she fell asleep.
“You’re getting mud on her carpet, Quinnie.”
I licked my lips and shifted my weight back onto my heels. Momma’s eyes hovered on me from the doorway. I should have locked it behind me before trying to enjoy a moment of peace with my little star.
“Did you finish it?” she asked anxiously.
I hung my head and exhaled. “Mom, not now.”
“Quinnie, if you just?—”
“Mom, please,” I hissed sharply.
I stood and quickly left the room, closing the door behind me before Estelle could hear our conversation. She didn’t need dark memories at such a young age.
“Not in front of her.” I squeezed the doorknob, heart pounding as my mother’s eyes shifted down the hall away from me. She was disappointed, and I didn’t blame her. “I have to do what I have to do. Isn’t that what you always told me?”
“Your father and I are separated for a reason.” She crossed her arms and squinted. “And I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I don’t want this for you. I don’t like how he continues to involve you.”
My boots scuffed against the ground. I hadn’t thought about taking them off at the door and stopping the trail of dirt behind me. Not only that, but my knee where my jeans were ripped was oozing with a small trickle of blood down my shin. I must have nicked myself with the pocketknife.
“How do you suggest I avoid that, then?” I asked.
Mom stared at me, her lips parting. I could sense the frustration rolling off her tense frame. Each little goosebump that rose over her arms came from every uncomfortable conversation she dared to have.
My father was an abusive asshole. Yet here his ex-wife was, begging me with her apologetic eyes to finish the job so I could return home at honest hours of the night.
How could she do this to me? I was only a kid. Eighteen does not define me as less than her broken baby girl.
“If you . . .” She stopped and closed her eyes for only a moment, but it was enough for me to see she had no solution.
Why would she? Back when she was my age, before my grandfather arranged her marriage to my father, she was standing in this same spot, her own version of her stars visible to the world.
The things she avoided talking about told me enough about who my mother was, used to be, and whoever she’d become when this eventually crumbled.
What went up must come down. Power included.
“That’s what I thought.”
I turned and walked away from my mother, eyes stuck on the ground. She inhaled sharply, and for a moment, I thought she wanted to walk after me and make sure I knew she’d handle this, but her footsteps faded in the opposite direction.