“I got to be the pretty one because you hid her away,” she said to Mother.

“That is not true,” Mother whispered.

“It is true!” Chloe yelled, throwing the silver frame onto the stone floor.

The metal bent, and the cracked glass shattered completely, scattering tiny shards near Father’s leather shoes.

“You made me think she was the one who wanted to hide,” Chloe said.

“She chose to wear the long sleeves,” Father said coldly. “She chose to stay in her room.”

“Because you made her feel like a monster!” Chloe screamed.

She turned on Father, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“You took her trust fund to pay off your bad investments,” Chloe said.

“You used her pain to keep this house.”

Father’s face flushed a deep, angry red.

“You live in this house too, Chloe,” he said, his voice rising.

“Every luxury you have ever known was paid for by my decisions,” he said.

“Then you are a thief,” Chloe said.

She stepped closer to him, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“You are a thief and a liar,” she said.