Bitter wasn’t afraid anymore. If there had been a miracle in any of this, then surely that had to be it, that she wasn’t afraid anymore. All the terrors Lucille held, they were nothing compared to what she had pulled out from her heart, what she had brought to life with her monster blood, her father’s stain, her mother’s legacy. Vengeance was a part of her, born from her wants, just like it had said. But she wasn’t trapped. There was always a choice, there was always time to realize that you had been so very wrong, and yes, there would always be costs. Next summer, there would be no Mr. Nelson
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