My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 19

Gianna

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The room was too big. It was too quiet, and it smelled too much like expensive flowers and floor wax. I lay in the middle of the massive bed, feeling like a speck of dust in this giant, cold mansion. I pulled the silk sheets up to my chin, but they didn't feel warm.

They just felt empty.

I let out a shaky breath, and then the first sob broke through. I pressed my face into the pillow to muffle the sound. I hated myself for it. I hated how small I felt. I sniffled, my nose running, my eyes burning from the salt of my own tears.

I was supposed to be the strong one. I was the one who was going to get us out of here. But right now, with the moonlight hitting the floor, I just felt like that empty, stupid girl the voice talked about.

Stop it. Stop being so pathetic.

I pushed myself off the bed. My feet hit the cold floor, and I walked toward the walk-in closet. It was bigger than my old bedroom.

I reached the top shelf, under the sweater and pulled it out.

It was just a long, heavy wooden stick. To anyone else, it was just wood. To me, it was the only thing that kept me determined to be better. It was what I used when I was too slow, when I couldn't get the words right, when I needed to remember that I had to be better.

It was my punishment and my teacher.

I held it in both hands, feeling the smooth, hard grain of the wood. I walked over to the full-length mirror and looked at myself. My eyes were red and puffy. My hair was a mess. I looked exactly like what the voice said, a joke. A useless thing that couldn't even spell a ten-letter word.

I raised the stick, my heart hammering. I looked at my reflection and felt a wave of pure, hot anger.

“Why are you like this, Gianna? Why can't you just be normal?”

I opened the door just a little bit, "Hey, what are you doing here?" I asked. I forced a fake smile, but my heart was racing, "I was just about to go to sleep."

My mother didn't say anything at first. She just searched my face with her eyes. I felt like I was going to lose it. I wanted to turn around and hide under the covers. Then she narrowed her eyes and looked at my red nose, "Have you been crying?"

"No," I said, but my voice was shaky. My stomach felt like it dropped through the floor.

She sighed and walked right past me into the room. That was when I saw Jules trailing behind her, holding onto her shirt like she was scared of me. That little traitor. My mom closed the door and turned around, cupping my face with both her hands.

"Is it about this morning?" she asked softly.

I froze. Did she know? Did someone call her? Did she see my messy notebook? "I... what?"