My phone buzzed in my purse and I ignored it. My day was completely booked. There was something else happening today, something I was forgetting - but I highly doubted it was that important if it hadn't been glaringly obvious this late in the day. The line of traffic to move through the front gates of St. Lucia's lurched again as we waited our turn.

It was annoying that we weren't already pulling up to the front, but the sheer number of people here couldn't be avoided. It was their version of Open House. It was more like some awful 'courting season' as they begged famous parents to mingle with prospective families by dangling progress reports and free booze in front of them. I had received a personal call from the headmistress to ensure my attendance. Not that I was planning on staying for the whole event. Already bored I called up toward the front,

"You're Anya's new driver aren't you?"

"Yes Ma'am," he quickly replied, straightening in his seat, hands sliding to 10 and 2. It seemed strange until I remembered why that might sound threatening coming from me. I tried to sound friendly as I asked,

"How is she doing? You probably see more of her than I do, darting her around for all her shopping errands."

"Fine. As to be expected starting a new school, Ma'am." He carefully replied.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I pushed, my tone changing to concern. He glanced back at me for a moment and then cleared his throat.

"I overheard one of her friends consoling her last week. It would seem some older girls have been picking on her."

"What?!" I snapped and my body burned with anger. Just as suddenly I felt that awful nausea that would always come over me when the mean girls would pick on me. I shook my head, my mood instantly darkened with this protective edge I'd never felt before. The headmistress was going to wish she'd never invited me to this.

"I didn't mean to offend Ma'am," he cautiously said finally pulling to the front of the school.

"You didn't," I darkly replied. "Thank you."

I ignored the overly friendly greetings from some of the teachers. I stormed right past Stephen, who, like the professional he was, fell immediately into step behind me. I brushed past people attempting to greet me and the swarm of girls in pleated plaid skirts hugging and dragging their parents toward the main hall. I marched right into the headmistress' office and slammed the door behind me. She startled, nearly jumping away from her desk, a hand to her chest as she breathed,

"Mrs. Korolov!"

"Please explain something to me," I carefully started. Her whole body froze at my tone and I took a few clicking steps toward her desk. "What exactly am I paying for here?"

"P...pardon?" She stuttered a bit, clearing her throat.

I ran my finger along the edge of her desk, making a line through the dust and then wiped it off on one of the visitor chairs with a frown. "I've come to find out that in the small amount of time she's spent here Anya has not only contracted lice and broke her arm in two places but has been subjected to bullying by some of your students."

"Never," she blurted, shocked and affronted, "bullying is absolutely…"

"And yet," I barked over her, "my sources say she has. We can both agree that my sources," I hissed, "are better than yours."

"Be that as it may," she struggled to say but I ignored her again continuing with,

"I am starting to question the validity of this school. I take the safety of my daughter seriously and I will not continue to support this institution let alone send her to a place that has proven to be detrimental to her health."

"Mrs. Korolov, I can assure you that your daughter's safety is my number one priority," she began to explain but her rushed and worried explanation buzzed out in my ears.

I'd just called her my daughter, hadn't I? Without even thinking about it. It had felt so right to say, and the fire that was still burning in my limbs to seek out these bullies and destroy them was only heightening it. I would protect her as fiercely as I loved her and there wasn't a single person, no matter their age or experience, that was going to stop me. That was the only silver lining of owning all this power and prestige - wielding it when necessary. And this was absolutely fucking necessary.

"I expect a detailed report to my office on your solutions to the numerous grievances we've endured here," I waved her off. Bright spots of color flushed her cheeks at my callousness. I turned to head out. "I'm here for Anya and only Anya."

"I w...was hoping to introduce," she replied, moving into a shade of crimson now.

I frowned at her and turned on my heel saying over my shoulder as I left, "you get four introductions."

"Thank you," she called after me.

I opened the door, took a breath to reset, and then smiled genuinely as a blur of blonde and purple sparkles raced down the hall toward me,

"Avery!"

The children had been dismissed long ago, their projects and accomplishments put away to make way for the appetizers and hard alcohol freely pouring into seemingly bottomless glasses. I'd been escorted around the party by a still panicking headmistress - a patron there, a chancellor here. I think there was a Prime Minister, maybe a celebrity - it was all blending and I needed a drink. When I'd finally been able to break free toward a more secluded corner of the party I heard a bubble of laughter right outside the double doors followed by,

"Well I heard she was living in a one-bedroom apartment, and all they can eat in Russia is cabbage soup, so she was so malnutritioned that's what the scars are for."

Bingo. There was no way this couldn't be her bullies. Anya herself had told me she was the only one that spoke Russian at this awful place. This also meant that they were little Circle bitches - because everyone outside the Circle thought they were shipping heirs. I squeezed my tumbler harder in my fist and took a breath so I didn't just start swinging at children. Maybe these girls were just twittering low-level Circle idiots. What she'd said was so stupid it didn't even make sense.

It had taken me almost five different schools before I'd been able to figure out the difference between a click of girls that just told mean rumors to each other and the queen bees that told mean rumors to the rest of the school. The latter always did it in hallways and low tones so anyone around them could hear, the queens were out to destroy you, the clicks were pathetically lonely.

"Sophia that doesn't even make sense. Everyone knows she has those scars because her mother threw acid in her face as soon as she saw how ugly she was."

I took three clicking steps out into the hallway, the sound of my shoes echoing down the empty stone walls, unable to stop the mean smirk on my face. I was going to destroy them. Two of the girls whipped around, startled and then terrified as they saw who it was. The final girl - the leader I was assuming - slowly spun around giving me the once over.

"Excuse you," she drawled in a slight accent I couldn't place.

"Gretta don't," one of the girls harshly hissed at her. Gretta eyed her friend and then looked at me again, the realization slowly dawning on her face.

"I'm Avery," I smiled at them, they instinctively moved closer to each other, "Korolov."

"She talks too much," one of the girls immediately blurted. "I'm sorry."

"Who are all of you?" I dipped my finger in my drink and swirled the limes around before flicking the moisture to the ground. Their eyes darted to my drink and then to my face and then to each other.

"Sophia Hernan. I'm a cousin of the Koning's." She blinked a few times and took a shaky breath.

"Xi Ling. I'm a cousin of the Mikado's." She gave me a small bow, I raised my eyebrow and then narrowed my focus onto Gretta. I took a drink and then nodded toward her,

"Gretta. That sounds German. Are you related to the Hersh's?"

"Yes. Second cousins," she quietly answered. The girls all fidgeted in front of me. Inside the hall you could hear the guests getting a little worked up, the laughs louder, the glasses clinking. I took a step toward them all and then held out my glass to Gretta.

"Have a sip, it's a party."

Sophia and Xi both started shaking their heads, their faces going pale in fear. To her credit Gretta kept her poker face, she'd probably been a queen bee for years now. She shook her head,

"No thank you," she quietly said.

"It wasn't an offer," I flatly replied, the ice clinking in the glass. Her hands trembled as she grabbed it from my own. She swallowed hard, looked up at me again, unsure and terrified. The vengeance pulsed in me, burning out all the monotony and agony I'd been feeling for days. What was the point of being so powerful if I could never use it?

Gretta took the smallest sip of the vodka, her face pinching at the bitter bite of alcohol and I snatched the glass out of her hand, the booze splashing onto her uniform,

"I'll be sure to tell your uncles that you say hello." I entoned and then brushed past them on my way toward the front. They jumped back, away from me, mumbles of 'Your Majesty' in my wake.

I fell asleep in the car. The drinks and my rage had mixed wrong in my empty stomach and sleep was the only way to combat it. Luckily it was a good hour-long ride in all the traffic so by the time we parked I just felt slightly disoriented. I shook out the cobwebs and then sucked in a startled breath at the cold air that hit me as soon as the door opened. The driver gave me his arm to steady myself and then I slowly clicked in to the house. According to my phone, I still had a debrief with Gemma for the visit from Michiyo and her new baby, dinner reservations and five missed calls from Stellan.

I paused in the entryway, let my hands flop down to my sides and looked up into the chandelier before lowly growling,

"Fuck."

Gemma was on top of me before I could start to wallow in what was sure to be an explosive fight with Stellan. We started moving through the house, her rapid-fire questions met with my one-word answers. The booze started to burn in my sore limbs, maybe I wasn't as sober as I thought.

I started walking faster through the house, I was trying to lock myself away in my office or the bedroom before he could find me. Gemma followed me like a duckling, firing more trivial things at me: the gold plated flatware or the heritage sterling silver, the china from their last visit or the new wedding set, sake from the local vendor or flown in. My head started to split. Why did I have to answer all these questions? I think the only thing the Mikado's were going to be remembering when they saw me was how their son looked while he was bleeding out in my arms.

"Gemma," I started gently and then almost hit my knees as I ground out between my teeth, "fucking Christ."

My arm was going to explode. I sucked in a shallow breath, slapping my right hand around my agony and Gemma stuttered to a stop giving a quick bow. I looked over at her, confused, and then I saw him stalk into the hallway. He was radiating anger, I could almost see it coming off him and stabbing directly into my scar. The booze swelled in my tender stomach. So I was definitely still drunk - lovely.

"Excuse me, Gemma, I need to speak to my wife." He snapped and then brushed past me into the formal dining room. Gemma disappeared and I swallowed hard and then followed him in, closing the door behind me. We both took a few breaths to try and settle and finally my arm relented as he shook his fists out, his back still to me.

"Can I at least," I started to say and he whirled on me.

"No," he barked. I flinched and snapped my mouth shut, the last time he'd been this mad he'd murdered that Order member in Prada. He paced the room, put a hand through his hair and then took a settling breath and faced me again.

"I just," I tried to start again, rubbing at the aching still thumping down my arm and his eyes blazed at me.

"No. Just no. I don't want to hear all your lies. I don't want to hear all your justifications. Anya called me sobbing because you threatened some thirteen year old at the reception and now the whole school thinks she's dangerous."

"That little bitch had it coming," I snapped at him. "She'd been bullying Anya at school. I heard her say this awful thing about her…"

"This was not your fight." He broke in.

"Not my," I broke off, glaring at him. "Of course it's my fight! These girls are from Circle families. I'm going to protect her! She's important to me."

He clenched his jaw, his eyes softening a bit but the rest of him still thrumming with rage. "Regardless of how you feel it was not your place. It was beneath you, you are too old to be doing something so catty, and more importantly, it is not what Anya wanted."

"Too old?! I'm the same age as some of those girls!" I yelled and then tried to settle. "Bullies only respond to strength, she is too young to be dealing with harassment from someone that old."

"And you fighting her battles for her is going to teach her strength how exactly?" He crossed his arms. "Plus she now has to deal with the added pressure that anyone who didn't know exactly who she was is now acutely aware of the fact that she's connected to you. Who, depending on the student, will think of you as a celebrity or a walking death threat."

"You are overreacting," I snapped. We both let out a huff of pain as I squeezed my arm and he shook out his hands.

"Am I?" He shouted. "Think before you do shit, Avery! Now we have to smooth things over with the Hersh's as well."

"No, we don't! Who cares? No one should be in our favor, they are under us now." I yelled back.

"That's not how that works!" He growled. "It's like you're not even trying."

"I'm not trying!" I screamed at him. "I'm the one that showed up for Anya, where were you? This wasn't part of our deal. That wasn't part of my destiny. I didn't sign up for this!"

"Yes, you did." He lowly countered, making all my screaming seem hysterical. Maybe I was hysterical. Maybe I'd finally broken. All I felt was rage and bitter defeat at what my life had become. And pain, so much pain.

"The mandate said I just had to form a union with you. The mandate said you would get all the power. I do not give a shit about all this Circle nonsense. I can't. I won't."

"Then why the fuck did you change everything?" He threw his hands out toward me, his accent growing thicker the more upset he got. "Why did you eliminate the patriarchal system of the Circle? Why did you make this a monarchy? Why bother empowering all the powerless in their system if you don't give a shit? If you want me to lock you in a wing of this house and fuck you once a year to make some children why don't we just start now?"

"Fuck you!" I spat at him. And before I even registered it happening my open palm cracked across his face with a resounding slap. He stood there pressing his lips together as my handprint blossomed on his cheek. My scar ignited with burning pain, making the rage crescendo inside me at his control. I threw my phone at him. It hit him square in the chest. It clattered to the floor unacknowledged by him. He flexed the fingers on both his hands out as far as they could go and I could have sworn I saw a flash of something, but then he snatched them back into tight fists. Finally, he took a slow, measured, breath before snapping at me,

"There is only so much heavy lifting I can keep doing for you. You have to start pulling your weight."

"Like you could make me," I seethed.

He closed the space between us and I tried not to shrink back from him - his presence commanding and his anger so palpable my arm slid right back into absolute agony. I could feel the static electricity building between the two of us - all the hairs on my arms stood on end. His voice was soft and dangerous and a shiver of fear raced down my spine as he said,

"I can and I will. Grow up. And fix this with Anya."

He turned and stormed away from me, but right before he made it to the door I found my voice again and said,

"I can't. I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

He halted, balled his fists and inclined his head towards me,

"No, you're not."

"It's that fucking summit in Paris. Part of all my heavy lifting." I sneered at him and reached down to pick up my phone, the edges of the screen shattered.

"Then you better plan for some time with Anya before you leave." He looked at his phone, punching things into the screen. "I just cleared your evening for you."

My phone buzzed in my hand and I looked down to see:

Birthday Dinner - Canceled

It crystallized immediately in my mind. The nagging thing I'd been trying to remember all day. It was his birthday today. When I looked back up, he was gone. So was all my debilitating pain. I grabbed the ornate table setting next to me and hurled it at the ground. The china spread wide and I pressed my hands over my mouth to mute my scream that quickly turned into a sob.

What was wrong with me? I had never been okay with domestic violence and yet my hand was still stinging. It's like he'd flipped some switch inside me and all I could give him now was vitriol and venom. When all I wanted was for him to erase all this blackness from inside me like he used to, like I desperately needed him to. I couldn't recognize myself anymore.

Behind me, a door opened and I heard someone already starting to sweep up the pieces. I shuddered with misery and then left them to deal with my mess. I had no idea which direction Stellan went in and was very tempted to just hunt down a driver and leave - but Anya. She was only going to be here this weekend, and I wasn't going to have another chance to speak with her until the Leap Year Ball. I hadn't embarrassed the headmistress of St. Lucia's and terrorized a bitchy pre-teen to back out now. I would do anything for her - even if it meant humbling myself. It would have to be tonight. Especially if I didn't have to go to dinner anymore.

I'd apologize to her and then get the fuck out of here. I hadn't realized I wandered to the front of our wing, and the Saxon guard keeping watch outside it. I had no idea when that had started, I didn't want to ask.

"Can you please let them know I'm leaving tonight instead? Get the chopper ready," I said as I opened the door.

"Ma'am," he nodded and touched his ear. With that taken care of, I made my way toward Anya's room next.

I paused, took a breath and then knocked, "can I come in Anya?"

I heard her shuffling things around and after a moment,

"Okay."

I turned the handle and closed the door behind me. A month ago her room had been the pinkest thing I'd ever seen. Now it was brilliantly purple, only her pink comforter remaining. I marveled at it for a moment and she sighed,

"I told Gemma I wanted some purple. I must have said it wrong."

"They mean well," I shrugged and took a step toward her. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She looked down at her hands.

"No, it's not." I swallowed hard. "I upset you, greatly, and I'm sorry. That wasn't what you wanted and I should respect your wishes."

"It's fine," she shrugged and leaned back in her chair giving me a weak smile.

"I won't do it again. And I can stop going to the school if that would make it easier for you." I continued. "I just remember how that feels."

"You had mean girls at your school?" She looked up at me now and I nodded.

"Every school. All twelve of them."

"What did they do to you?" She crossed her arms over her chest and I saw a flash of the chain on my locket under her sweater. I hadn't seen my locket in a while now. A sharp longing to wear it again filled me but I pushed it back down.

"Locked me in bathrooms. Said mean things about me. Threw food at me at lunchtime. Stole my backpack. Got me in trouble with teachers…" I stopped because her eyes had gone wide with shock. "Girls are mean." I meekly finished.

"What did you do?" She released her arms and leaned forward.

"Most of the time I ignored them because I knew I would move. But that's not a good way to deal with bullies."

"I know," Anya nodded. "Stellan told me to ignore her but it kept getting worse. That's why it's okay." She smiled.

"What do you mean?" I moved over to sit on her bed, she swiveled her chair in my direction.

"She's mean to everyone! But today...today she's the one that got in trouble. She's suspended for being near the party and drinking."

Inwardly I cringed, that wasn't fair to the girl. I'd made her smell like vodka. I nodded for Anya to continue anyway.

"At first I was very upset. It was embarrassing for me to have you do that. But then all these other girls in the school started telling me the mean things she'd said about them. They were glad. They were glad someone had finally stood up to her."

I paused. I had, effectively, caused another scenario that Stellan might not have thought about. You dethrone one queen and another will rise.

"Anya, you remember what I told you when you started this school right?"

"Be kind to everyone, but don't trust them." She recited.

"You have to be kind to Gretta. I know it feels good now, and everyone is happy that she got in trouble," I stopped to make sure she was listening. "But if you are mean to her now - you are just as bad as her. It is beneath you to be mean."

I forced myself not to close my eyes in frustration. Echoes of Stellan's angry words flung to the forefront of my mind. I shoved them away, I could pick that all apart later when I wasn't still visualizing stabbing him if he crossed my path.

"Because I'm a princess?" She quietly asked.

"I…I..." I stammered. I hated being called a Queen. It felt wrong. It didn't work in this present world anymore. Yet, people loved to call me it. I didn't want Anya to get an inflated ego off that title. "You know that title doesn't matter. You won't be mean to her because you are a Korolov."

"Okay." She nodded. I stood up from her bed, straightening my dress.

"Are we good now?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in hope.

"In Russian!" She scolded me and I rolled my eyes and repeated it back to her. She smiled back. "Yes."

"Okay, I'll see you at the Leap Year Ball then. I leave for Paris tonight." I started toward the door.

"You're not staying for dinner?" She asked rising from her chair. I froze.

"No." I tried not to frown.

"But it's his birthday dinner!" She moved toward me, her skirt swishing around her knees when she stopped in front of me.

"That's your thing with him. I don't want to impose on such a special tradition." I tried to sound nonchalant, but my throat was already closing up with tears.

"He asked me if it was okay if you joined us. It seemed really important to him." She beseeched me. "You were supposed to leave tomorrow morning."

"My plans changed," I choked.

"So change them again." She argued and then her face lit with recognition, "this is because of your fight."

"What are you…" the rising wave of tears froze at that comment. I didn't know she'd been close enough to hear that.

"Everyone heard you. You two were screaming at each other." She quietly added.

"He doesn't want me there Anya. You go. Have fun. Or do something different, just the two of you." I swallowed hard. Her face fell. I started to leave and she put a hand on my arm.

"You're my family. It was just one fight." She squeezed my arm. I bit my lip so I wouldn't cry and then nodded. If she only knew. But I didn't want her to. I didn't want her to know how miserable I'd been and how desperate things had become. That wasn't fair to her. And I hadn't written her into my will and put up all these safeguards to protect her from this cruel, ugly world we'd forced her to live in just to rip them away because of what Stellan had done. I would always protect her, even if it was from myself.

She tugged my arm and we started down the hall toward the dining room. She started chatting away as we moved, filling me in on the details of Gretta's suspension. Apparently, Gretta had cried in the bathroom and when her friends tried to console her she lashed out at them. They promptly joined with the rest of the school in being gleeful at her misfortune.

"Just remember what we agreed on," I intoned as we moved through the living room. "Otherwise you'll be the next girl everyone is gossiping about."

"Of course!" She dramatically sighed and rolled her eyes skipping in front of me a little. Stellan yelled out something in Russian to Anya from the kitchen but I couldn't tell what he'd said.

Then we all entered the dining room at the same time, Stellan holding a pot of something, frozen in the kitchen door jamb. Myself, arms wrapped defensively around my still aching chest at the dining room door jamb. And Anya between us at the table, throwing her arms out toward me, like I was a surprise, and yelling,

"Happy Birthday!"

He set the pot down with a thud on the table and crossed his arms. Anya looked between us nervously, not expecting the stony reaction from him. I ducked my head and turned to go.

"I'll leave," I said and took a shaky breath.

"Stay," he commanded and then rubbed at his still slightly pink cheek before slipping back into the kitchen. Anya grabbed my arm again and drug me to one of the chairs sliding a table setting toward me. My heart sank, there were only two. I wasn't supposed to be here.

"I really should go," I whispered to her. Anya shook her head and patted the chair. Then she dug around inside the cabinets until she could piece together her own mismatched table setting. She sat at the head of the table, placing her utensils and then leaned over to see what was in the pot. She called out to him asking about the food, at least I think she did. I dug my fingers into my arms trying not to flee. Everything in me was telling me to run.

He appeared from the kitchen again this time with bread and some kind of veggie dish. I thought I was going to barf. My nerves were at an all-time high. Anya clapped, praising him in Russian and I took in a small breath trying to calm the panic. They started serving the food to all our plates and then sat down and smiled at each other for a small moment.

This was obviously another tradition between them and I felt even worse. I was intruding on something so sacred. This was a mistake. I pushed my plate away a little and moved to stand.

"Sit," he lowly ordered, the happy mood shifted. Anya looked between us a few times and then stared down at her plate. I sat back in my chair and started to push the food around. There was no way I'd be able to eat it.

"Where was the best place you went this year?" Anya cautiously asked.

"Mexico was nice." He smiled at her. She laughed and then said,

"It's so different now. I know all these things. Maybe we should start a new tradition?"

"Whatever you want lyubov' moya," he answered and took a bite. She turned to me,

"What do you do for your birthday?"

Stellan kept eating, his head down, so I took a small breath trying to remember in my panicked mind,

"I got to stay home from school and do whatever I wanted. Sometimes that meant going somewhere fun most of the time I stayed home with my mom. And then she'd bake me a cake."

"That part I knew." Anya smiled at me and started in on her dinner. My phone buzzed in my sweater pocket but I ignored it. "We should do something fun this weekend."

"I'm sure you two will have a great time." I countered and pushed my food around again.

"I thought you were going to cancel your plans. We could do something tonight." Anya pushed. I looked down at my plate. She knew better, I'd already explained this to her. I wanted to appreciate how effortlessly she'd tried to manipulate the situation but there was no way. My lungs felt like they were shaking inside me from all the crescendoing emotions I was holding back.

"Anya," Stellan warned.

"But it's your birthday! And we are all together as a family. You told me this is what you wanted. But both of you look sad." Her whole body started to curl inward the more upset she got. She abandoned her dinner and sat back in her chair.

"This is fine. I am happy." He grumbled to his food and then his whole face dropped in disappointment. My heart ached in my chest, contracting what little air I had left out in a pained huff.

"You're a liar," she pouted and pushed her plate away, making the glass wobble on the table. I reached out and grabbed it and we both warned at the same time,

"Be careful."

I looked up at Stellan across the table and my whole body flushed with terror. None of this felt right. Staying here with them. Leaving them tonight. And both scenarios were wrong for such wildly different reasons I thought my brain might snap in half. Weeks and weeks we'd outright ignored each other - this was the moment to try and work through this, figure out how to salvage what we had left. My silence filled the room like a wild animal, everyone frozen, waiting to see what to do next. Even myself. It pinched my stomach and made this swooning wave of panic rush through my chest and up to my throat. He parted his lips to say something when a Saxon security guard moved into the room.

"The chopper is ready Ma'am," he bowed his head and quickly left. Stellan's shoulders dropped with misery, Anya looked up at me with puppy dog eyes as I stood. I couldn't do it. Not in front of her. I needed more time.

"Wait," Anya blurted, and jumped from her seat rushing to the other end of the table, filled with presents. She grabbed a small box wrapped in white paper with a giant orange bow. "At least open your present from Avery."

I had been hoping I wasn't here for this despite how much effort I put into this present. The idea that had struck me months ago when I'd seen the brief from the Order that they were digging around in Stellan and Anya's home town again. This inkling I'd gotten that there had to be something left for him. Then the secret tasks I'd given Elodie to hunt it down. And there had only been one thing. A watch. Those had all been decisions pre-Maldives Avery had made. Now I had no idea how this was going to land. A part of me was hoping he'd think it was something ridiculous and toss it. But I couldn't let him do that. I forced myself to choke out,

"I had Elodie work with the Order to…" I trailed off, unsure I'd even be able to get the words out over the ball of tears in my throat. "This belonged to your father."

Anya audibly gasped, darting over to his side to watch his trembling hands slowly rip through all the paper. It wasn't anything flashy. Just a simple black leather band with a gold face. But it was priceless. Anya's small fingers carefully pulled it into her own hands and Stellan's eyes met mine over the table - glassy and devastated, his mouth a thin line on his face. This was exactly why I didn't want to be here for this. It wasn't meant to be a manipulation, but now it seemed like one.

I sniffled, the tears now threatening my eyes as well and stood. Managing the best smile I could I quietly said, "Happy Birthday."

Then I turned and fled.