She should have known that this happiness couldn’t last. She wasn’t the kind of person who got a happy life! She was the kind of woman who lived in the shadows and…well, Denise was the kind of woman who got to go out and be happy.
Her footsteps slowed as she neared the guard office. Why were they here? They hadn’t spoken to her in years and she hadn’t bothered to go home. Why? Because she hated how they treated her.
After a childhood of being told she wasn’t good enough, she’d finally pulled together the courage to get away, to find a place where she felt good and others considered her work to be worthy. She’d done it! She’d struggled at first, but she’d done it!
So, why were they here now? She didn’t want to go back to being that quiet, timid person. The shy, weak person who jumped at shadows. But her family had this strange power over her. Just one word and….
Rachel stopped in the middle of the hallway. “No!” she said out loud, startling a passing staff member. “Sorry,” she whispered to the other person, who hurried away. “I won’t let them do this to me. Not again!”
She reminded herself that she had choices. She was in control.
With that in mind, she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “I can do this,” she told herself. With a self-deprecating shake of her head, she continued down the hallway. “How many people have to give themselves a pep talk prior to facing their family?” she muttered.
Placing her hand on the door of the guard office, she paused, took a deep, steadying breath, then opened the door and stepped inside.
Rachel took it all in with a quick glance. Her family. Her mother stood by the window, texting, but looking up to snap orders or criticism at her dejected, silent father who sat nearby. He never bothered to respond. The man simply accepted his wife’s nagging and…ignored her. And there was her sister, in all of her astounding glory. With a smile and a slight tilt of her head, Denise had charmed three of the palace guards, who were leaning over the counter, thoroughly entranced.
It was a typical scene, one she’d witnessed so many times throughout her childhood.
Moving deeper into the guard room, she made her presence known. “Hello everyone,” she called out, trying to appear cheerful even though she felt sick to her stomach.
Six people turned to look at her and Rachel refused to cower. Not today, she told herself firmly.
“Goodness, Rachel, dear. What in the world are you wearing?” Pamela Morris demanded, stuffing her cell phone into her leather purse. “I would have thought you’d learned to dress more professionally. Those hideous flowered dresses should all be in the trash!”
Rachel steeled herself against her mother’s criticism. “My attire isn’t the issue today, Mother,” she snapped and felt a surge of power when her mother blinked. Rachel’s hands fisted at her sides and she felt a sense of pride when she ignored the impulse to clutch the material of her skirt. Lifting her chin, she forced her lips back to a smile. “How are you?”
Her mother shrugged, obviously recovered from Rachel’s sharp reply. “Hot, darling! Take us to your apartment so that we can unpack. This godforsaken country is so miserably hot!”
Rachel stared at her mother, shocked that she would be so…blatantly offensive. Turning to the guards, Rachel smiled weakly. “I apologize, she’s just…” she trailed off, realizing that she didn’t need to apologize for her mother’s bad behavior. “She’s just a horrible person,” she finished, then shrugged as if to say, “Family? What can you do?”
Turning back to her family, she straightened her shoulders. “Right. So, what are you all doing here?”
Pamela snorted. “Can’t a mother visit her daughter?”
Rachel considered her words as well as the implications for a long moment. Then shook her head. “Not you.”
Her sister laughed, then shifted into her “alpha dog” pose, as Rachel used to think of it. “Don’t be a drag, Rachel,” Denise purred, moving forward to embrace Rachel, who stood stiffly in her sister’s arms. “We’re here to see where you work and find out more about your life here. We haven’t seen you in what…? Three years? That’s an awfully long time to avoid us, don’t you think?”
Rachel didn’t answer. Instead, she looked at her father. They had always been so similar, but Rachel couldn’t imagine living his life, being the object of pity and constant nagging. It was one of the reasons she’d escaped, not wanting to turn into him.
Her gaze returned to her mother, eyebrows raised. “And you’re here to visit me…why?”
“Because we miss you, of course,” her father spoke up.
Rachel felt a crack in her armor. Could that be true? Had they even noticed she was gone? Probably not. Her mother ran an event planning company in Atlanta. Her father was the accountant and Denise had joined the family business right after she’d graduated from college.
Realizing that she wasn’t going to get the truth out of them in front of an audience, she shifted again. “Right. Well, where are you staying?” she asked, then braced herself.
“We’re staying with you, of course!” her sister announced with a ridiculing chuckle, as if that were the most obvious answer. “There’s plenty of space here, isn’t there?” she mocked, her eyes lifting as if she could see through the walls and ceiling of the palace security office.
Rachel saw the guards stiffen but stepped forward. “I don’t live here at the palace,” she told her family honestly, even though she had been staying
