R O S A L I E
We dressed quickly and made our way to the main living room. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my hands were clammy. I felt like I was going to face my executioners, not my own family.
When we walked in, I saw them. My mother, my step father and my younger sister, Sarah.
They looked small and out of place in the grand living room. My mother was sitting on the edge of a velvet armchair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. My father stood behind her. Sarah was staring at a painting on the wall, trying to look uninterested.
My mother looked up, her eyes widening at the sight of me. She was wearing her best church dress, but it looked cheap and faded in the room.
"Rosalie," She said, her voice trembling slightly.
"Mother," I said, my own voice clipped. I didn't move
