“I wished that I’d get a chance to make my mark somehow.” I’m just about to ask what she means when she continues, her voice barely audible. “That people will look at me and admire me, what I’ve done, what I’ve made of myself instead of looking at me and feeling sorry for me because I’m Lydia Wells’s, the town floozy’s, daughter.” Her voice breaks, and it fucking kills me. I’ll never understand how she feels because we’re polar opposites. Whereas she has pressure weighing on her because people expect nothing from her, I have it because they expect too damn much from me. We’re from completely
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