Isabella’s laugh pierced through the silence. “Sissy, that’s too funny. She’s kidding. She’s always been a little bit of a prankster. Everyone at school says it. Tell Daddy that you’re kidding. Tell him.”
I wanted to run away or hide. But I’d already been strong once today when I told Matt off. I could do it again. And I’d already had to sit here listening to Mr. and Mrs. Pruitt talking about me like I wasn’t here. I tried not to think about what the repercussions at school would be if I went through with this. My life was already hell. What did it even matter? I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “I’m not joking. She said I was unwanted. She called me a garbage person like my uncle. And said that I’d never be her sister.”
More silence.
Mr. Pruitt pushed aside his salad. “Isabella, is that true?”
“Of course not, Daddy. She’s lying.”
He looked over at me.
“She’s been torturing me ever since I first stepped foot in Empire High,” I said. “And today, if anything, was worse.”
“What?” She laughed. “That’s not…Brooklyn.” She laughed again but the strain was evident. “We’re friends. Tell Daddy that we’re the best of friends. Sisters.”
I was tired of being her punching bag. I kept my mouth closed.
“I’m going to ask you one more time, Isabella,” he said. “Is what Brooklyn said true?”
She rolled her eyes like her mother had. “Technically it was my blazer, so…”
“Apologize to her.”
Isabella folded her arms across her chest. “No.”
“Now.”
Isabella’s lips pressed together in a harsh line.
“She didn’t do anything wrong,” said Mrs. Pruitt.
I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one that jumped when the wine glass collided with the wall.
“Both of you get out!” he screamed at his wife and daughter. It looked like he was about to throw more food.
“You have to be kidding me, Richard,” Mrs. Pruitt said as she calmly sipped her wine. Like this was an everyday occurrence. “Can we please have a civil conversation about your illegitimate child without the theatrics? As far as I can tell, Isabella didn’t say anything untrue to the girl. No harm no foul.”
The muscles in his neck twitched. “Spend the weekend in the Hamptons. Clearly you both need more time to adjust to her presence. And don’t come back until you’re ready to act more appropriately.”
“But, Daddy!” Isabella protested. “I need to be at the game tonight! And I just told you about my plans afterward.”
I doubted that the cheerleading team actually needed her. Or that James wanted to celebrate his acceptance to Harvard with her rather than with his actual girlfriend.
“Then leave town after the game,” he said.
Isabella huffed and stood up. “Does that mean you aren’t coming?”
“I’m no longer in the mood,” he said.
“Richard.” Mrs. Pruitt stood up. “You’re taking the word of that little trollop over our own daughter.”
Trollop? I felt myself sinking into my seat.
“No. Isabella admitted it. Now go. Both of you.” He waved his hand to gesture them out of the dining room.
Isabella gave me a look of pure fury before stomping after her mother.
The awkward silence stretched between us as doors slammed upstairs. Mr. Pruitt finished his salad right before the main course came out. And then he held up his hand before the plate could be placed down. He looked at me. But it felt a lot more like he was looking through me. “Is there anything else you need tonight? Anything at all?”
I shook my head.
Isabella was right. His wrath was terrifying. Even though it wasn’t directed at me, I still felt my accelerated pulse. Mr. Pruitt was scarier than Isabella and her mom put together. I wanted to tell him that all I needed was to leave. I didn’t want to be here. But no words escaped my throat.
“I’m going to finish my meal in my bedroom. I’ll see you in the morning. And don’t worry about shoes,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Please just come to breakfast however you wish.” He walked out of the room without another word and the chef’s assistant dropped a plate in front of me before rushing after him.
Instead of getting up, I just sat there and I watched the red wine drip down the paint. I was too scared to move. My plan had failed. Isabella hadn’t gotten me kicked out. She’d gotten herself kicked out. I cringed as I heard another door slam upstairs. All I’d done was make Isabella hate me a thousand times more.
Chapter 9
Friday
I wanted to crawl under the table and cry. I’d been brave all day. Or at least, I’d tried to be. I’d alienated myself from all the Pruitts by standing up for myself. Matt had treated me poorly, so I’d pushed him away. And now? Now I was all alone in a place that could only be described as a haunted mansion in apartment form. I looked at the creepy portrait of the Pruitt family above the fireplace. It felt like all of them were staring at me. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that the two females in the picture wished I was dead.
I couldn’t stay here. If I did, I’d probably never wake up. I looked behind me at the door to the kitchen. No one was watching me. If I was going to escape, now was my chance. Felix was somewhere in this apartment building. All I needed to do was sneak out.
I stood up and looked down at my feet. I guess it would have been a good idea to wear shoes so I could flee. But I didn’t necessarily need shoes to roam the halls of this apartment building. I was sure the fancy carpets in the halls were regularly cleaned. And even if they weren’t? I’d risk the cleanliness of my feet to stay alive.