around.
Coralyn made a sound in her throat that was half surprise
and half wounded animosity. She must be incredulous that
Giana wouldn’t even look at her. “What are you talking
about?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“You want to know how I’m doing? How I’m holding up?
That’s what you’re really asking, but it’s coming out all
messed up because you’re cruel and terrible and the things you
said to me at your house were unforgivable.”
It was a clear invitation to battle, and Giana spun around.
She glared at Coralyn, who lost some of her bravery under that
unrelenting stare. Whatever Giana had felt, that forceful
undercurrent, slammed back into her. She rarely felt anything,
and it was such a surprise that Coralyn could draw it from her
so effortlessly. It felt very much like that curse she’d stood in
this very office and uttered just a few weeks ago had legs and
was possessing Giana, invading her mind and all the other
cold, dark places that she kept carefully shut down.
“I’ve had to be merciless to get where I am.” It sounded like
an explanation. Giana didn’t like that. “What I said needed to
be said. What I did needed to be done. You brought it on
yourself.”
No, she didn’t. Yes, she did. The constant back and forth was
still taking place in Giana’s head. It was exhausting. In life,
like in development, there were invariably always fuckups, but
she’d never had a personal crisis of this magnitude. Not since
the night when her family was ripped apart by one wrong turn
off the bed of a winding road on a dark night.
Coralyn’s throat worked and Giana’s mouth went bone dry.