Sloane
I’ve been forcing myself to remain focused, acting like I’m fine while Aunt Samara helps me unpack. They set up my room exactly like it was back home and I hate it. It just reminds me of what my mother and my maybe father did and my life that was built on lies and betrayal.
But I don’t want to say anything. I don’t want to make them mad. I don’t want to give them any reason to hate me for what my parents did. Or worse, I don’t want them taking out any anger at me on my brother or sister. They’re too young to understand, but I’m not.
When I hear Aria begin fussing on the baby monitor, I nearly collapse with relief. If Aunt Samara leaves, I can stop pretending that I’m fine. I’m anything but fine.
“Sloane, are you going to be okay in here by yourself? I need to go take care of Ari
