“Yeah.” She let out a resigned sigh. “You’re right, he wouldn’t like that at all. God, why do things have to be so complicated?”
“Because our father is a selfish ass who does what he wants with little regard for others?” My brow arched and Celeste spluttered over the breath caught in her throat.
“I wish I could argue but…”
“Yeah, I know.” I stared up at the house, the invisible shackles around me already tightening.
“You know, he isn’t all bad.” I glanced over at Celeste and she gave me a weak smile. “It’s true. Growing up, there would be these small moments. Rare little glimpses of a man who could laugh, have fun, and enjoy life.”
“I find that hard to believe.” I didn’t think I’d ever seen the man crack a smile, let alone have fun.
Heavy silence settled over us and I lifted my gaze to hers. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why do you think he brought me here? I mean, he didn’t want me… he didn’t want my mom.” Pain sliced through me.
He’d killed her.
Maybe not by his hand, but his abandonment, his cruel treatment, had broken something vital inside her and she’d never recovered.
I didn’t know much about her life before The Row, before me. She’d rarely talked about it. But I knew enough to know that Michael Rowe had been her world. Trina Maguire hadn’t been like the other kids growing up in Old Darling Hill. Her parents—my grandparents—had died in a tragic accident years before I was conceived. So she’d grown up with her ailing grandmother. They’d had money like everyone else here. But I always got the impression my mom had been a lost soul.
Until she’d found my father.
“You’re his daughter, Harleigh. His blood. I know he didn’t do right by your mom… by you.” Pity shone in her eyes, and I hated it. I hated that a man who meant so little to me could still make me feel such things. “But despite what you might think, he isn’t a monster.”
I wasn’t so sure about that.
Before I could find the words to answer her, Celeste added, “I know he messed up, but I think in his own way, he thought he was protecting you.”
“Protecting me? From what? My friends? My…” The words got stuck in my throat as my body shook with frustration. “He took away the one thing I needed most, Celeste. The one person who—”
I tamped down those dark, dangerous thoughts, anger rising inside me like a tidal wave.
“I know. Crap, I know.” She reached over and grabbed my hand, tears pooling in her eyes. “And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know… I didn’t—”
“I know.” I inhaled a shaky breath, trying to smother the intense emotions threatening to consume me. I was okay. I was stronger. I wasn’t the same girl I’d been back then when my world had fallen apart.
“I don’t think he knew you would… hurt yourself. He couldn’t have.”
It wasn’t easy for Celeste, being stuck in between me and Michael. He’d been there for her. Raised her. Given her everything she could ever want.
When I’d first arrived at their house, I hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. My half-sister—the daughter he’d wanted.
The daughter he’d kept.
But Celeste had wormed her way into my heart. She was never jealous of me or wary, she was patient and kind and consistent.
She was there.
She’d been there for the last nine months whether I wanted her to be or not, and I was grateful. I was. But I also knew we would never agree on some things.
Like the kind of man our father really was.
“We should go inside,” I said, shouldering the door.
“Harleigh, wait, I didn’t—”