The Last Mrs. Parrish

by Liv Constantine

Amber remembered reading that actors think of the saddest thing they can to help them cry on cue. She was trying to summon a memory to make her cry, but the saddest thing she could come up with was that she wasn’t the one sitting in Daphne’s chair, the mistress of this incredible house.

Ok sociopath we see you

It seemed the more money you had, the less you had to actually come into contact with the filthy stuff.

I was learning that emotional intimidation could be just as unsettling as physical.

Triggered

What made it even more difficult to live with was the uncertainty. Which Jackson was I talking to now? The one with the easy laugh and charming smile that put everyone at ease? Or the one with the scowl and critical tone who let me know with just one look that I had done something else to disappoint him? He was a chameleon, his transitions so quick and seamless they left me breathless at times.

seriously triggered