Page 106 of When a Soul Cries

Nothing.

Just annoyance.

“Here you go with that shit again,” Aunt Trice muttered dismissively, folding herself further into the same disbelief she’d shown me two years ago.

The words hit the same place her slap had two years ago.

My throat tightened.

“He raped me,” I repeated, louder this time. My voice trembled, but I didn’t look away from her. “Your man raped me.”

Aunt Trice folded her arms across her chest, her expression hardening as though she were already tired of hearing me speak.

I stared at her and felt twenty-two again.

Scared.

Ashamed.

Begging somebody who was supposed to love me to believe me.

“You knew something wasn’t right,” I said, my voice shaking as old hurt rose into my throat. “I came to you because I was scared.”

Her nostrils flared, but she still didn’t say anything.

“And you slapped me in my fucking face,” I continued, my eyes burning as I remembered exactly how that slap had felt.

Aunt Trice’s mouth twisted. “You always were a lying little bitch.”

I physically flinched.

Two years later.

Same woman.

Same choice.

Him over me.

“I was your niece,” I whispered, the words coming out wounded instead of angry.

For the briefest second, something flickered across her face.

Maybe guilt.

Maybe not.

Then Halo whimpered against my chest.

Aunt Trice’s eyes dropped.

Her whole expression changed.

I felt it before she said anything.

Her gaze moved over Halo’s face.

The curls.