For a half second, she let herself wonder—permitted herself to imagine what honesty looked like. What would he do if she told him everything, right here, right now? If she told him there was something living inside her, taking up space, poisoning anyone unlucky enough to hear it speak? If she told him it was getting worse—that some days she was the girl in the glass, and it was the thing in her skin. What would he say if she told him she’d found a way to carve it out of her? If he knew that he’d been hired to make sure she didn’t succeed? Thomas Walsh wasn’t an interpreter. He was a saboteur.
Wait so the stepdad knows and is trying to keep her like that???
