Chapter Thirty-Two. Emily Blake
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
EMILY BLAKE
Emily Blake sits on her stepdaughter’s bed.
Olivia’s hair is damp from her shower, her head bent as she scribbles her wish on a square of pale pink paper.
Emily writes hers too, the way they always do.
Every night, they fold the slips into origami stars and drop them into the mason jar on the dresser, a galaxy of paper promises collecting in the glass.
You aren’t supposed to peek. If you do, the wish won’t come true.
But she does, and as expected, her heart sinks, because Olivia wrote down exactly what Emily thought she would.
That her mother would take her to the zoo this weekend, like she promised she would.
Olivia has been writing the same wish every night for two weeks.
Emily always peeks at Olivia’s wishes, because she always tries to make them come true.
And usually she can. Wishes for cotton candy or a new headband.
But Emily is powerless when it comes to this particular wish.
She kisses the crown of Olivia’s head, turns on the star shower night-light, and leaves the door cracked just so. Exactly how Olivia likes. She knows these details, because she’s the one who is here. Every night.
Then Emily pads down the hall, looking forward to pouring her single glass of wine and curling up on the sofa.
But she stops at the end of the hall, because she hears Mark’s voice drift from the kitchen, low and careful, a tone she knows too well. The tone he only uses with Cat.
Emily doesn’t have to hear the words to know what this means. Olivia’s wish won’t come true. Cat will disappoint her. Again and again.
She leans against the wall and she listens. She hates the way Mark softens for Cat. Hates the way he humors her. Hates, if she’s honest, that Cat exists at all.