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My brain is scattered all over the place as pain hits me from all sides. I can feel the fragile grip I’ve had on my self-confidence, my belief that my family still loves me, begin to slide out of my fingers.

“What? You got nothing to say to me? Good! I never want to hear from you again! But first, you’re going to take this shameful website down. And you’re going to tear up every single picture you took of my baby. I know you have to have some somewhere, you demon. I don’t even know what to say. How did you get so rotten inside?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. The knowledge that no matter what I say to defend myself or ask questions, my words will be twisted strangles me into silence.

There’s not a shred of hope left inside me right now.

“I will not sit back and let you destroy him, you hear me?”

“I hear you,” I whisper with a croak.

She called Asher and played around with the truth. Something that Ash would never be able to forgive me for. I’ve been tattooing scars. He probably thinks I’ve been using him as a promotion for the shop. I downright know Maman does.

I could never do that to him. Or anyone else, for that matter. Pain is personal. You share it with those you trust, not strangers.

None of my family will ever believe that.

“You take that down.Right now!Or I will come down there and put the wrath of God on you. You should be ashamed of yourself. You’re just like your father!”

The line beeps, signaling that she’s hung up on me. I’m hurting too bad at her parting shot to notice.

A sharp, agonizing pain rips through my chest. For a second, I half believe she ripped my heart out.

I’m just like my father.

I was his favorite. The one he tried to write to when he tracked us down after jail. I have his hair color. His eye color. Hell, I might be a feminine carbon copy of him.

It doesn’t matter if I change my hair or wear contacts. His influence will always be underneath. Something I can never wipe away, no matter how hard I try.

A hereditary evil.

“Being evil is a choice.”

Poe’s voice echoes softly in my head. A small piece of sanity stuck in an undertow of white noise.

I glance down as my phone screen reappears. There’s a notification that I have a message on social media from two hours ago. I never heard it go off. I was too busy running around, trying to be perfect for the meeting that will never come. That knowledge rips my chest open again.

Is that what theyallsee when they look at me? Our father?

I want to be sick at the thought.

My finger clicks on the notification, even though I’m not sure why. I’m going into some kind of autopilot while I try to make myself numb.

Bile rises in my throat when I see the post. I know this is what Maman was talking about.

My heart completely shatters at what I see. Splintering into so many tiny pieces, I’ll never be able to find them.

There, plain as day, is a picture of my thigh. The raccoon playing with the beach ball, and every cut is in vivid detail. I can’t catch my breath.

William posted it with a message that breaks me down even further.

“I don’t know why Addie would do something this disgusting. Help me convince her to stop and get help for these poor people.”

When did he take this? I know it was him. Poe would never take a photo from such a bad angle. It looks like I’m in bed, based on the color of the fabric highlighting it. That one drunken night had a lot more repercussions than I thought it would. I’m so thankful my face isn’t in this. It’s ridiculous to think that when he blatantly called me out on the post. He even tagged me in it, so I would be sure to see.

I slow down when I reach the first comment he made on the original. It’s a web link. When I click on it, Poe's website comes up. All the blood rushing around drops out of my face until I feel like I’m about to pass out.

Not only is William exposing my secrets, but he’s also taken the people from SoT down with me.