His hand comes to my neck, trailing up until his thumb rests in the spot right under my chin, tipping it up. “Keep this up, Liv. Keep your chin up. You don’t cower; you don’t hide from anyone. Ever.” Suddenly, it clicks then, all those years of him doing this exact move, of placing his thumb there and tipping my chin up until I was looking at him. Always when I was most unsure. When I was second-guessing or nervous. A silent reminder I think I’ve always internalized. “You’ve been doing that for so long.” “I never want you looking at people who are beneath you ever again, Olivia. Only up.”
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