VALORIA WILDEROSE
"You want to know what I think is pathetic?" He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. "That you've spent your entire life apologizing for crimes you didn't commit. Your mother made her choices. Your father made his. And those spineless sisters of yours? They're too cowardly to direct their rage where it belongs, so they use you as their punching bag."
He steps closer, invading my space with predatory intent.
"But you? You're even worse than them. At least they're honest about being vicious cunts. You? You've convinced yourself that your suffering is survival—that if you just take enough beatings, bow low enough, bleed quietly enough, they'll finally see you as one of them." His laugh is cold, cutting. "Newsflash, little mouse—they never will. And the sickest part is that you already know that. You've always known it."
His hand shoots out, gripping my chin and forcing me to meet his eyes.
