#Chapter 17: Bitter Words
Celeste
The dining room was filled with the sound of conversation and laughter. None of Jack’s friends—not even Matt—was aware of my inner turmoil. I chose to keep it that way.
I avoided Matt’s gaze. Although he laughed and spoke with his friends, I couldn’t unsee that sad look in his eyes.
He had seen my messages already; I could only imagine what I would see when I turned on my phone later. I should have blocked him right after I hit send and saved us both the trouble.
Each dish I served was met with Jack's scrutinizing eyes, his lips twisting into a smirk every time he opened his mouth to speak. But I kept my head down, pouring water into glasses and refilling dishes, focusing on the repetitive motions to distract myself from his constant jabs.
Be the perfect sister, I kept thinking to myself, my body moving mechanically as though I was being operated by a remote control. Don’t feel. Just serve.
“Celeste, this chicken is overcooked,” Jack hissed.

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