𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝟱

Evangeline's POV:

Dante dropped me off at home right after we bid farewell to Fox. Stepping inside, I found my dad sprawled near the couch, surrounded by empty beer bottles. He greeted me with a half-hearted smile, his eyes glazed over.

"Hey, darling," he slurred.

I sighed inwardly, the familiar weight of disappointment settling in. Ever since he started receiving payments after adopting me, he had become increasingly reliant on alcohol. It reminded me how far he had drifted from the man I once knew.

"What did I say about this, Dad?" I tried to keep my voice steady, masking the hurt and frustration brewing inside me. "You need to get to work."

"I can't, Evie," he mumbled, his words slurred. "You provide everything I need."

My heart sank at his response, a bitter mix of pity and resentment welling up within me. It was a stark reminder of how our roles had reversed, with me now shouldering the responsibilities of a parent.

"You need to earn for yourself—" I began, but he cut me off with a dismissive wave.

"I'm tired of your lectures," he snapped, his temper flaring. "You should be grateful I took you in."

The sting of his words cut deep, reopening old wounds that I had tried so hard to heal. With a heavy heart, I watched him storm out of the house, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Locking the door behind him, I retreated to my room, seeking solace in the familiar embrace of my books. As I lost myself in their pages, I couldn't help but envy Fox and her loving family. But despite the pain and turmoil, I found solace in the unwavering support of friends like her, who stood by me through the darkest times. With a heavy sigh, I buried myself in my books, seeking refuge from the chaos of my reality.

After a few hours, I found myself releasing the grip on the book I had been engrossed in. Thermodynamics wasn't proving to be as captivating as I had hoped. My eyes wandered to a nearby book on the floor, its cover adorned with images of vampires and the afterlife.

(...)

On the second of February, my birthday, I woke up with a sense of resignation. Exiting my room, I found my father in the kitchen, his smile strained but present nonetheless.

"Happy birthday, Evie," he said softly as he approached me.

I accepted his greeting with a nod, my mind flashing back to the painful memory of his anger that day. Moving past him, I headed towards the kitchen, a palpable tension lingering in the air between us.

"I got you a present," he offered, producing a small gift from his pocket.

"I'll open it later," I replied curtly, my voice lacking any warmth.

Pouring myself a glass of orange juice, I felt his gaze lingering on me as I drank.

"I heard about the spelling bee today," he continued, his tone attempting to convey a sense of normalcy. "Congratulations."

"What's going on?" I asked, my skepticism evident. "I thought you were still angry with me."

"Your words made me think," he admitted, surprising me with his candidness.

Before I could respond, he continued, 

"I'll be returning to work next month—"

I cut him off with a bitter laugh.

 "What else is new? You've said that before."

With a frustrated gesture, he flung the gift to the ground and stomped on it.