Threads That Bind (Threads That Bind, #1)

by Kika Hatzopoulou

What a silly reaction, that she should feel guilty of taking the lead on something she was clearly more skilled in. Guilt was an old habit, one she thought she had kicked.

Go find what you don’t like and change it. You know you can change it, right, little idiot? Be better, make this world better.

She had a way with shame, her sister. If patience was Io’s weapon, shaming was Thais’s. She brandished it sparingly, but always made sure to cut deep. Right into Io’s core, where the shame festered and infected her every thought.

Gods, Io felt euphorically drunk on teasing.

That was a very pretentious way of looking at it. Art was no single thing, and art as suffering was a noxious, outdated concept.

They came together: the fear and the longing. Io dreaded that her love was doomed to be rejected, or tricked, or manipulated. And at the same time, she wanted desperately to be loved.

When I didn’t behave the way she thought was appropriate, her reaction was cruel. She wouldn’t talk to me for days. She would criticize everything I did, often infusing it with exaggerations or lies. And she would shame me, every chance she got.

“I think the people we love can be cruel. Our love doesn’t absolve them. Nor should it.”