I pull against his hold when we pass my father, stopping in my tracks. He tilts his head up slightly, a menacing grin on his face. Even though there’s still an ache flaring deep in my chest at his vile spirit, at the chasm between us, there’s a certain pride in not stooping to his level—in proving my worth to myself. Proving that I’m better. Still, when he winks at me, I can’t stop my reaction; my tongue writhes in my mouth, saliva pooling on the tip, and I purse my lips, projecting it right at him. The wad of spit lands on his mouth, and a look of pure rage washes over him. He struggles
...more
