The first thing I heard was my own gasp.
My head still hurt from however long ago, because I'd been banging my head on my bedpost. When my little ache settled enough that I could think without wincing, I reminisced.
"Tense. Distant. Truth is I've never really felt close to Charlotte. Sometimes I wonder if having a second child was a mistake."
I squinted my eyes to stop more tears from coming and tossed aside my pair of heels, which I still had in my hands, and then got off the bed. I inhaled and exhaled, and then opened my door.
Just as I thought, my mom was standing outside. Her plastered looking lips were pressed together. She stood there like a wax figure with her hands folded in front of her.
"Charlotte, darling, can we stop this, please?" she asked.
I shut my eyes and inhaled and exhaled again. "Before we do that, answer me this question."
She raised an eyebrow. "Whatever you want, darling. I want to make amend-"
"Firstly, do not call me darling. It makes me sick, just hearing your voice."
"Charlotte, there is no need for such vulgar beh-"
"Why did you say that, Mom? Why?" I screamed.
"Say what?" she replied.
"You'd wished I was never born. I want a reason now, and it had better be good. Because I am this close –" I held my fingers in the air and left a small gap between my thumb and index finger – "to leaving your over-glamorous ass and moving in with the Porters.."
She was silent for a few seconds. "I do have a good reason." She finally said.
"Do tell."
"I-It will scar you for life." She stammered.
"I don't give a crap."
"You'll think less of me."
"I already do. You might as well try to not make it worse, by telling me just what the hell the problem you have with me is."
She shut her eyes, and I saw tears leaking from them. "It's because Conrad's not your father."
My eyes widened and I crossed my arms. "Oh? Is that why he kicked me out?"
"Y-Yes…"
I flicked my hair back. "If he's not my father, then who is?"
"This is why you'll be scarred for life."
"Try me. You make it sound like my father is the devil."
"That's because he is. Your father is the most hated man in America, the man who used to own Emily Thorne's house, the father of Amanda Clarke."
What? "So, you're saying…"
"Charlotte, your biological father is David Clarke."
"WHAT?" I screamed out and stepped back a couple of steps. "What did he do to you, Mom?"
Both of us shut our eyes, unable to speak. Placing her hand on her bowed forehead, she took a deep breath and started to cry. When she was finally able to talk, she said:
"H-He… raped me."
"So this is why you wished I was never born? Because I'm David Clarke's second daughter?"
"Don't get me wrong, Charlotte. I've always loved you. You were never meant to see that video, and I was always trying to protect you from the truth. I never meant for you to find out, but now that you have…" she was breaking out in loud sobs. "…can you forgive me?"
I then started to cry. "Did David Clarke ever find out?"
"Yes. He talked about you in an interview."
"What did he say about me?"
"Nothing negative. He'd said you were so beautiful, that your eyes were so familiar, and found losing both of his daughters to be unbearable."
I choked on a sob and stormed back into my room. The first thing I did was call Declan.
"Declan? Is Amanda there? I need to talk to her."