Because if you don’t care about your own damn self, who else is going to do it?
I learned at a young age I’m responsible for myself in this world. I carry my fate in my hands, and I can decide which path my life is going to take. And the best way to do that? Use other people’s secrets against them.
I thought it might be a good idea to write down everything I know about Eden Falls in here, so I don’t forget. A town of this size, with this much money… there’s bound to be secrets on every corner. And I’m eager to know every single one – if only to use them against the people I’m supposed to love most.
Sometimes I’m afraid for my life. Sometimes I’m convinced I’ll find out too much one day. That I will become a danger to the people here, and they’ll do anything to get rid of me. Of course, Father would never let that happen.
He’s the worst one of them all.
So here we go, dear diary… You’ll keep these secrets, won’t you? You better.
I have no one else to tell them to.
Araminta – oh my sweet best friend. If only you knew how close I am to blowing your cover every single day you piss me off with your stupid antics. If only you knew you weren’t all alone in the world after all.
If only you knew Lai was your brother.
That his mother wasn’t a call girl at all, but instead your father’s sister… That your big brother is a product of incest.
And Julian – handsome, wicked Julian. I must be the only one who knows your biggest secret – that your family locked you in the family crypt as a child. How terrified you must have been of the statues, of the graves, of the silent graveyard of all your ancestors. It messed you up so much, you still sleep in the crypt… You’re so broken, Julian. So beautifully broken.
Audra. Stupid, naïve Audra who can only feel the love of the father she never had when she’s with a man twice or three times her age. I know you like them older, Audra. I know all your dirty little secrets.
Then Caspian. Brutal Caspian. Sometimes I wonder how much you know about your past. I’m not sure you know why you’re so cruel, so sadistic. Maybe it’s the fact that your father raped your mother. That you’re the product of a violent, horrible crime your dad committed… Fucking you up from the get-go.
I know this, and so much more.
And I’m willing to use it all against every one of you.
* * *
"Am I interrupting?"
I look up to find Bryony standing in the doorway, her fist poised over the wood as she watches me eagerly. I didn’t even notice her unlocking the door, I was so engrossed in the little book of secrets. Quickly, I stuff the purple diary beneath my pillow, hoping she didn't see it.
"No," I finally manage. "Not at all. Did you need something?"
My heart hammers in my chest in quick, panicked beats. Please, please, please, don't let her notice something's wrong.
"I just wanted to come and see you," Bryony purrs, slipping inside my room. "I haven't spoken with you in a little while and I wanted to know how you were settling in here at the Estate, and in Eden Falls in general."
My brows shoot up and I'm about to remark on the fact that she has never shown much interest in me, so why should she care now? But I bite my tongue, staring at her intently.
There's something different about Bryony today. She seems... loopy. Kind of out of it. I wonder why I get that feeling. Maybe if I let her stick around for long enough, she'll tell me. It's not like I can just kick her out, anyway - my father would probably find a way to punish me for that, too.
“I was hoping you’d let me brush your hair again,” Bryony adds sheepishly, picking up the brush on my vanity table. “I really miss doing it with Lily Anna. It would mean a lot to me. Please, can I?”
I still recall her painful tugs on my strands from last time, and my lips form a thin line as I stare at her. Does she have an ulterior motive for doing this? I guess I won’t find out if I don’t let her do this.
“Fine,” I finally get out, getting up and walking to the vanity table while my stepmother smiles with glee. “Just don’t tug on my hair too hard.”
She looks giddy with excitement, reminding me of a little kid who’s about to get her favorite toy. I wonder why the change in attitude – usually she seems so nonchalant, as if she doesn’t really care what happens around her.
I sit down, and she begins to brush through my hair, taking extra precautions so she doesn’t tug on my locks when the brush meets a tangle. She’s gentle, almost sweet, a motherly smile playing on her lips as she continues to work through the mess that is my hair.
I decide to take advantage of her change in attitude. Perhaps I can finally get some information out of her now that she’s in such a good mood. Maybe she’ll tell me some of my father’s secrets if I press hard enough.
“So, Bryony,” I speak up in a fake positive voice. “How do you like it here at the Estate?”