“It’s the truth.”
“You might not have known about his use of drugs,” I retorted, “but you’re every bit as strong as him magically—why didn’t you see the threads of his spell on me?”
“Because you and I rarely interacted after Catherine’s death. There was little opportunity or time—”
“There was nothing stopping you from making the time.” It was angrily said, but I didn’t really care. After so many years of holding back, it felt good to finally unleash. Which might not have been wise, but I wasn’t really in the mood to be wise right now. “I’m your goddamn daughter—did it never cross your mind to at least ask if I was okay?”
“No,” she said softly. “It did not.”
Four words. Four simple, brutally honest words that were nothing but the truth and yet still so unexpected. I’d grown up well aware of my own insignificance within our family, but hearing it confirmed like this, however regretfully…
My anger fled, leaving only a deep and empty sadness behind.
I’d spent nearly thirteen years hoping that she’d had no part in pawning me off to Clayton. Thirteen years of hoping that when she did find out, it would somehow bring us closer together.
The truth was, nothing would ever do that. She simply didn’t care enough about me.
And while I’d always been envious of the relationship she’d had with Cat and my brother, Juli, I now had to wonder just how much of that was due to their worth, power-wise. In the cold light of this conversation, I rather suspected it had played—and, in the case of my brother and his offspring, still did play—a major role.
I scrubbed a hand across eyes that ached but had no tears to shed, and said wearily, “Why on earth did you ask to contact me?”
“Because it was the right thing to do.”
Of course it was. Why would I think anything else when I’d grown up well aware that appearing to do and say the right thing was all that really mattered. “I suppose that’s why you broke up with Dad?”
“His actions in this whole farce have put me in an intolerable position.” She paused, as if suddenly realizing how all that sounded. “Which doesn’t mean I’m not sorry for what happened or for my own lack of foresight and support. I am. It’s just—”
“That you care more about your standing in Canberra than the daughter who offers you so little.”
“That is unfair and untrue.”
“It’s nevertheless how I’ve always felt.”
“Then I am doubly sorry—”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I cut in. “It really doesn’t.”
Even as I said that, a weight lifted. It was the truth. I had a life—a good life—and people who loved me as my parents never had. The inner child might have wanted reconciliation but the reality was, what I’d found in Castle Rock was far more real than anything I’d ever ge
t from my parents.
She didn’t immediately reply and—though it was probably nothing more than imagination—her hurt filled the silence. I let it stretch.
Her next question, when it eventually came, did surprise me.
“Is there anything I can do for you, Elizabeth? I know nothing can ever make up for the trauma you went through, but…”
Her words trailed off. Perhaps she realized it was a case of too little, too late.
“There is something,” I replied evenly. “Make sure the annulment is pushed through quickly.”
“Your father is attending to that, but I’ll ensure there are no delays.”
Meaning that despite their so-called split, the two remained in contact. No doubt once this had all blown over and my father was given whatever meager punishment the council deemed appropriate, they’d renew their alliance and continue on as if nothing had ever happened.
“The other thing you can do is keep an eye on Clayton. If he leaves Canberra, please let me know immediately.”
“Clayton would not be foolish enough to leave Canberra when the specter of an investigation haunts him. It would be testament to guilt.”