LOGIN"That woman..." she pointed at her without a shred of hesitation, "...should be ashamed of herself. If she wanted to help you, there were other ways. A decent woman would have taken you anywhere but here. Instead she surrounded you with this filth and expected you to believe it was a home." Denise
Hazel held her tightly, too tightly. As though letting go for even a second might mean losing her all over again. She buried her face against Gianna's hair. "You found me..." Gianna whispered through tears. Hazel couldn't answer. She only held her closer. Then, over Gianna's shoulder, Hazel lifted
Salvatore watched her, "Hazel." She didn't stop, "If there's even the smallest chance my daughter is there..." her hands shook as she pulled on her coat, "...then she's not spending another minute in that place." She was halfway to the door before Salvatore caught up beside her. "Hazel, we don't
She slipped off Denise's lap and crossed the room, wrapping one arm around the pole, she pushed lightly from the floor. Her body rose in one smooth motion. She curled around the pole like a ribbon caught in the wind, every movement precise, every line unmistakably shaped by years of ballet. For a
Gianna laughed, suddenly shy beneath all the attention, "It wasn't perfect." "Oh, listen to Miss Perfection." Denise pointed toward the chrome pole standing near the corner of the room, "What about that?" Gianna followed her finger, "The pole?" Tasha nodded, "You think you can climb it?" Gianna
Before she could react, Morgan gently pressed the black costume into her arms, "Wear it." Gianna stared, "...No." "Yes!" they all shouted in unison. Denise hid another smile behind her coffee. Gianna looked toward her for help, "Mama D?" Denise lifted both hands, "I've learned not to argue when
I stared at her, "What?" "I wanted you to be happy. I wanted you to go to college, graduate. I wanted you to dance. I wanted you to laugh. I wanted you to have one year where you weren't worrying about hospitals and medications and doctors." Her hand pressed against her chest. "I wanted one year
And suddenly I understood why everyone had been acting strange. Why Salvatore looked at her the way he did. Why Vincenzo insisted on taking her to the doctor himself. Why Claire checked on her constantly. Why everyone seemed careful around her. God. God. God. My stomach lurched. Mom's voic
Mom lowered her head, "Gianna..." "No," my chest hurt, "I don't understand." Claire pushed her chair back, and came towards me, "Hey, come here, your mom is attached to you." I laughed weakly, "Attached?" "Yes." "Claire, I'm going to live ten minutes away." "I know." "Then why is everyone act
"Jules." "What?" My little sister glared at Raphael and then looked back at me, "If she murdered somebody, I want details." Mom laughed softly and the sound pulled my attention toward her. She sat at the table with her tea in both hands, smiling at Jules with so much affection it made my chest ac







