[ Riley flinches. But something about this isn’t so different from screaming over a kitchen island about what she deserves, about how much she’s done— so something in there flips a switch. Her fearful, closed eyes snap open and she screams, she gives in to what a horrible person she really is. ]

You hypocrite, you’re all h- h- hypocrites!! You’re lect- lecturing me, about pretending, the fucking gambler?! [ One of her hands comes detached, like she’s unhinging herself. Bloodstained claws tap against the floor, once again dripping into her hardwood. The snarl that leaves her lips is downright animalistic. ] What’s wrong with— with trying to be better?!

[ Little comments from sessions with Danny swim through her mind. They wrap around her, about this being engrained in her (no, he said, what he meant was it’s something she’s been dealing with for a long while), about the other girls placing their trust in her (no, no, of course he didn’t mean she broke it on purpose), little things she keeps— misinterpreting, of course, but things that sink into her like knifes nevertheless. She knows, she knows, she—

Pushes up from one of her knees, the left side limp and loose like a puppet with its string a cut. Her hair fans out into a crest, making herself bigger, angrier. ]

I’m not l-l-l- like him!!