Page 76 of The Sound Between Us
“I hate you seeing me this way.”
“Like what?”
“Real.” The word lands. “Weak.”
He flinches. “You think this is weakness? Seren, this is the most fucking real thing I’ve ever seen.”
“There’s my superstar!”
Damon’s voice barrels down the corridor. He rounds the corner, flushed with alcohol and self-satisfaction, smile wide enough to split skin.
“You were magnificent up there, treasure. Absolutely fucking magnificent. Did you hear that applause? They loved you.”
The fury hits. Fourteen years of swallowed words rise up and detonate.
“How dare you.” My voice is whisper soft. “How fucking dare you use Mum’s memory to ambush me.”
His smile wobbles. “I was honouring both of you—”
“You were performing. Like you always do.” I step in, and he steps back. “She spent her last six months asking where you were. Wondering if she’d ever meant anything to you—or if she was just another song you got bored of playing.”
His tan goes pale. “That’s not fair—”
“Fair? She loved you until it killed her. And you’re still wringing applause out of that love.”
Damon’s face crumples. “I thought... I thought you’d be proud. They loved you up there. I just wanted—”
“You wanted to show me off. Like a party trick.”
“Without you, I’d be happy.”
The silence that follows is cavernous.
Kimba materialises—flawless, composed.
“Seren, darling, you were wonderful tonight. Everyone’s asking for you.”
She leans in for an air kiss. I recoil. “Don’t touch me.”
“Sweetheart, you’re upset—”
“Don’t call me sweetheart. You’re not my mother; you’re just the woman who replaced her.”
Kimba’s face cracks slightly. “There’s no need to be cruel—”
“Cruel? You were busy playing wife while my mother was dying. Don’t act the victim.”
“Seren—”
“You were the groupie who got the ring; the woman who stood beside him while my mother faded out of her own life. Don’t act victim. You stole everything from her—and you’ve been trying to wear her legacy ever since.”
“That’s enough.” Damon tries to bark, but it’s just noise.
“No. It’s not even close to enough.” I’m screaming now; I can hear voices, footsteps—people coming to watch.
“You turned my mother into a ghost in her own home. And now you want to use her death to make me dance for your friends?”
Phones are out now; cameras up.
