Every day, I lose a little more control over my life. How long will it be before I have no say over anything at all?

CHAPTER 11

“Leni! Come on, we have to go.” My mother’s voice doubles and triples on itself as it echoes up the stairs and through the second floor. She’s trying hard to sound happy and lighthearted, but I’m not fooled. I’m holding her up, and she wishes she could chew me out for it.

“Be right there!” I call out while taking one last look at myself in the mirror. This is my nicest dress, far nicer than anything else in my closet except the dress I’m wearing tomorrow at the wedding. A light yellow color with a black floral print, it swings around my thighs when I walk and even has pockets. For the first time in days, I feel like myself. Nobody is telling me what to wear or how to be. And that gives me a little bit of courage to face whatever tonight will bring.

I hate that I have to dread what should be a nice, memorable evening with family. The rehearsal dinner is a big event. But I’ll be too busy worrying about staying away from the pair who will be my stepbrothers as of tomorrow.

That’s not the only thing I’m worried about as I pick up my purse. My back’s been bothering me all day—I didn’t do anything to aggravate it, and I don’t have to. Sometimes, I happen to move the wrong way, and bam. I’m in at least discomfort and, at worst, pain for the rest of the day. What a time for this to happen. It’s not bad enough that I have to smile my way through this little charade, but now I’ll have to do it while my back is screaming.

I guess that’s what painkillers are for. I don’t like using them since they sometimes leave me feeling loopy—and I don’t want to feel that way around Colt or Nix, who I know would take advantage of it. At the same time, what’s the alternative? Having Mom get mad at me for being a wet blanket, as she puts it? I guess since we’re going to a dinner, it isn’t like the pill will sit on an empty stomach. I go to my bathroom and pull the bottle down from the cabinet, popping one into my mouth and washing it down with a handful of water from the sink.

“Leni, we have to go. We can’t keep people waiting!”