"You ungrateful bitch. I keep a roof over your head, and this is the thanks I get?"
"You could have killed her," I retort, trying to muster up confidence that I don't possess. "What if she goes to the cops, Dad? That bruise on her face is enough to...
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The weeks connecting Thanksgiving and Christmas pass by in a haze. It feels like we jumped from one holiday to the other without taking time to savor the ordinary days in between.
Once again, the festivities remind me of Margo, and that formidable sadness returns to my chest. On Christmas, I plan to visit her grave. I know it's just a stone in the ground, but other than a cryptic note and a Zippo lighter, it's all that's left of my grandmother.
"Want me to come with you?" Damian offers.
"This is something I need to do on my own," I reply, "but thank you."
When Christmas morning arrives, I leave my presents for Damian and Moira beneath the tree and walk to the cemetery. The ground is dusted with a light covering of snow, and the leafless tree branches twinkle with icy crystals. The sky is a pale gray, but the sun shines through the silver clouds.
It's truly a Winter Wonderland.
I locate her headstone and lower myself to the ground, grazing the top of the obelisk with my fingers.
Don't cry, Layla. It's just a piece of marble.
"Merry Christmas, Margo," I whisper.
I think back to last year. To the sugar cookies we baked. To the cheesy photobook I made her, which she absolutely adored. To the laughs we shared. It was our first Christmas together, and the best one I'd ever had.
It was also our last.
"So... Richard and Saul are pissed that you left everything to me," I tell her, rolling my eyes. "I spent all summer in a lawyer's office while they bitched and moaned about how I was too young to handle that much money. God, they are so entitled, especially Richard."
A smile tugs at my lips. I'm relieved that my uncles finally realized their quest for Margo's money was a lost cause and left it—and me—alone.
"By the way, you'll be pleased to hear that I'm going to college in the fall! I don't know where yet, just that it will be as far away from this hick town as possible," I say with a chuckle. "I applied to a bunch of schools on the east coast, so maybe New York? I discovered that I love big cities. Small town life really isn't for me."
I rise to my feet and brush the snow off my knees. I know she can't hear me, but it's been nice talking with her. She may not have been the first adult to show me kindness, but she was the first one to believe in me. She left that money to me so I could attend university and make something of myself.
I just hope I can make her proud.
I say goodbye to my grandmother and exit the graveyard, ready to go back to the Forbes' house. However, a figure in the distance causes me to freeze up, my legs locked in place as if stuck to the icy ground.
"Hank," I murmur, swallowing the lump in my throat. I haven't seen him in months. I was not expecting to find him in a cemetery on Christmas.
"Layla?" He stumbles toward me. Even from afar, I can smell the whiskey on his breath. "The fuck are you doing here?"
