Perseverance

Chapter Fifty Five ~ October

I have the same chin as Brett Winters.

It's the only thing I can find that's similar. Tilting my head to the side, I jut my chin out and grimace when I realize that I'm not going mad. It really is his chin.

George Winters chin.

The man I ran over.

My father.

Dropping my eyeliner, I watch it fall into the drawer before shoving it closed and inhaling deeply. No matter what I seem to do these days, my mind always seems to circle back to something - deceit, my failure of a birthday, Haydon becoming my half brother, Brett and I being related, my dad not who I thought he was, killing my birth father.

Looking back at the mirror, I run my hand along the defined jawline.

It's something that I've always been fucking proud of. My jawline has never needed filler, beautifully detailed as though someone sculpted it for the Gods, every woman I know instantly jealous of it.

Except Savannah.

But then again, I guess she gets to see it on her fiancé too.

"Fuck," I breathe out, reaching out and grabbing hold of my mascara from the pot beside the mirror. Trying to distract myself, I drag the wand over my lashes, coating them with a thick layer of the black magic before closing the tube and placing it back in the pot.

Taking another deep breath, I shake my head.

It hasn't worked. I'm still thinking about George fucking Winters.

Did he have time to register who it was driving straight at him? Did he see me? Did he know who I was? That I was his daughter? His own flesh and blood that mowed him down.

Although... I was protecting more of his damn blood. Almost as though I were Alice, protecting my brother...

"What the fuck?" I snap at myself, turning away from the mirror. Why are my thoughts even entertaining this? It's messed up, it's an absolute fucking nightmare.

I'm never going to know if George wanted to know me. I'll never know if he saw me in the driver's seat. If he wanted to say anything to me in his final moments. If he cared.

I scoff. He didn't even care about Brett.

Losing him wasn't even a thing for me. And it never will be.

I ran over a psychopath who was trying to murder my best friend and her partner. That's all there is to it. That's all there will ever be.

It's just going to take my brain a few months to comprehend that.

"Becky?" Ellis' voice startles me and I jump, hand to my chest as I turn towards the open door. "There's someone here to see you."

"Okay," I reply before glancing across at the mirror on the opposite wall. I'm not entirely ready for the day, hair curled, make-up complete, robe covering my body. It'll have to do. Maybe it's Savannah, bringing me the same amount of donuts as she brought over three nights ago. They disappeared within forty eight hours and I'm already craving more. If there's ever a time to not care about the gym or food — now is it.

Stepping over the pile of dirty laundry, I step out of the bedroom and descend the stairs, stopping with a start when I reach the bottom.

Mom is standing just inside the front door, clutching her purse to her chest as she smiles at me. Ellis reaches up, running his hand through his hair and shifting on his feet beside her. My eyes drift between the two of them.

"Did you—"

"No! I came on my own accord," Mom quickly cuts me off, worried eyes glancing at Ellis. "I thought it was time."