Delia's knock came in three fast hits, and she didn't wait for an answer.
Delia: Downstairs. Ten minutes. The press pool is in the garden.
I pulled my hair down over my throat and jerked my collar up. My hands were already cold.
Delia: Look at me. The hair isn't doing it. That scar is a mile wide in daylight.
She grabbed my jaw with her whole hand and turned my face like she was checking fruit.
Delia: You pale little freak. Nobody wants to look at that. Nobody.
Her nails dug into the same four marks she left three days ago, and I felt one of them open.
Delia: Scarf. Now. If Petra sees that face, you're on the county bus tonight.
Delia: And don't think I won't. Warrick's people make problems quiet, and you're a problem.
The garden was full of chairs, cameras and donors, and Warrick's hand came down on me like a lid.
Warrick: My stepdaughter, everybody. Hard road, and look how she came out of it.
His fingers pressed into my shoulder blade. I smiled at the hedges.
A woman with a dark bob and a press badge cut through the row of chairs before anyone could stop her.
Petra: Sienna, right? Petra, from the Ledger. How's the recovery going?
She tucked my hair behind my ear, quick and friendly, like she was fixing a kid's collar.
Her eyes dropped to my jaw and my throat, and then every camera in that garden went to the same place.
Petra: Is that from the assault? That's from the assault, isn't it?
My ears rang. The whole garden went loud and quiet at once.
Delia was beside me before I could breathe. Her hand closed over my arm and twisted.
Delia: No pictures from the left, I said! You deaf as well as ugly?
Her nails went in, and I felt them go in.
She walked me through the side door by the arm. The second it shut, she shoved me into the wall.
My shoulder hit the corner and the back of my head tapped it. My lip split again on my teeth and I tasted blood.
Delia: You stupid little bitch. You did that on purpose.
Delia: Say it. Say you did it on purpose, so I know you're not fucking stupid.
No words came. She wiped my chin with her thumb and pushed my lip into my teeth.
Delia: I'm sending you back tonight. They'll drop you at county and you can rot there.
Cato: Get your hand off her.
Cato filled the end of the hall. His voice was low and even, and it did not shake at all.
Delia: This is a family conversation.
Cato: It's over. Move.
Delia let go. She always let go for him, and somehow that made me hate her more.
Cato: Look at me. Not her. Me.
I looked. My chin was wet and my hands would not stop shaking.
Finn: Sienna. Can I come close?
He had a white towel in his hand, and he stopped two feet away and waited for me.
Sienna: Yes.
He put the towel in my own hand and let me press it to my lip myself.
Cato: Sit down. Please.
I sat. He crouched down so his face was under mine, so I could look at him or not.
Cato: Nobody touches you in this house without saying it first. Not me, not Finn, not him.
Cato: If I want your hand, I'll ask for it. If you say no, that's the end. No punishment.
Finn: Same for me. Every single time. Even to fix your lip.
Finn: I'm going to look at it now. That's all. Okay?
I looked at both of them and my throat went tight.
Sienna: You don't have to say that stuff to me.
Cato: I know I don't.
Sienna: Everybody's nice at first. Then they want something.
Cato: Then don't believe me. Watch me instead.
That was the part I didn't expect. He didn't get mean because I didn't trust him.
Finn: We'd rather be watched than believed for free. Watch us, Sienna.
Finn dabbed my lip, and I let him. My shoulders came down about an inch and stayed there.
Cato: She's not going to county. Not tonight. Not any night.
I wanted to believe that so bad it made my chest ache.
But Delia's voice was still in my head, saying county, saying rot there, saying she'd hand me to people.
Cato's promise was warm. Hers had teeth. I didn't know yet which one this house ran on.
I told myself to watch them. Watching was the only thing I knew how to do that kept me alive.