Two weeks...two weeks since she walked through the front door and saw her father making love to her little sister, two weeks since she began to cling to him and follow him around like a puppy, two weeks that she had to endure the sounds of them in the next room over at night, her father grunting and Leia moaning in pleasure. "Faster, Daddy", she'd scream, "faster." The walls were paper thin and she had no choice but to lie there and listen, hatred festering in her heart like cancer and silent tears sliding down her freckled cheeks. She tried putting her pillow over her head, but it only muffled the noise; it was still there, mocking her.
Since that hateful day, her father hadn't touched her, and every time she tried to get him alone, Leia was there to steal him away, dragging him by the hand here and there like a dog...and he allowed himself to be led. That's what hurt the most; he could make time for her, but he didn't. It was Leia, Leia, Leia; he was like a little boy with a shiny new toy. He couldn't stop looking at her, touching her. At dinner, she sat in his lap and he played with her hair, running it through his fingers and lifting it to his nose. In the evening, she cuddled with him in his chair. They kissed, held hands, and giggled together like schoolgirls.
And every once in a while, she would catch Leia looking at her with derisive eyes and a condescending smile. Look at me, she seemed to say, I'm Daddy's little girl now. It made Lacy so angry she shook. Seeing them together was too much, and eventually she stopped coming out of her room except when she absolutely had to; she laid on her side and hugged herself, aching for her father's touch the way a flower aches for life giving sunlight. She wanted him to kiss her and play with her hair so desperately that she could hardly breathe, and just knowing that Leia was getting the attention that she craved pushed her close to exploding. It would be bad enough if it was Lyra or Liena, but it was Leia.
The kicker? Leia didn't love Dad; she was only doing this to get at her. She could feel it in her bones.
God, she wanted to whip the little bitch's ass, but she held her fists back because if she didn't, Dad would be angry with her. She could take another beating, but she could not take him forsaking her entirely for that stupid little slut.
On the morning of November 17, Lacy woke in a bar of golden autumn sunshine, her eyes fluttering open and her muddled mind slowly clearing; the fuzzy warmth of sleep departed, and cold depression flooded in. She drew a heavy sigh and closed her eyes, hoping against hope that she would fall back asleep, thus delaying the inevitable. She didn't, though. Her heart throbbed sickly and her flesh burned with constipated desire; she hadn't touched herself, and she was so horny she could barely think straight. Not that she was a sex addict like Liena, she wasn't, but it had been so long since she felt her father's hands on her body, since she had tasted his lps, since she'd felt the sting of him penetrating her. So, so, so long.
Sighing, she rolled onto her side, and the tang of cigarette smoke reached her nostrils. Her nose crinkled and she creaked her eyes open; Lupa sat up in her bed, facing forward and taking a drag, "You have five minutes," Lupa said without turning.
Lacy groaned. She was waking up more now, and deep in her stomach she felt the same nausea she'd been feeling for the past week, a churning, slimy sensation that, she knew, would lead to her puking, as it had every morning for the past seven days. Nerves, she thought, though she couldn't understand why it faded in the afternoon and didn't come back until the next morning.
"You really need to get over it," Lupa said and tapped her cigarette against the edge of her ashtray. "You're driving yourself crazy and that's just what Leia wants."
"I know," Lacy moaned, "but…" she hesitated. She wasn't usually open with her emotions, but right now she needed to be. "It hurts. It hurts so bad," Tears filled her eyes and she squeezed them closed.
Lupa hummed. "How's it any different than sharing him with Lyra and Liena?"
"Because they're not Leia and they don't hog him on purpose," she said sullenly. Wasn't it obvious?
Lupa didn't reply for a moment. "Well...you still need to get over it. You've been moping around for two weeks. It's not healthy."
Yeah, well, she didn't care what was healthy and what wasn't. The only thing she cared about was what that little demon bitch was doing with Dad; his tongue in her mouth, his dick inside of her, wet with her disgusting slime...it was enough to drive her crazy. Oh, she didn't want to think about it, but she couldn't think of anything else.
Lupa took another drag, threw her head back, and blew a tight plume of bluish smoke. "I don't like seeing you like this," she said, an earnesty in her voice that surprised Lacy. "Plus...I need your help. With Leia."
Several times over the past two weeks, Lupa had approached her about 'taking Leia down,' but she was in no frame of mind to be of any use. Being around Leia, talking about her, looking at her were all things that she wanted not to do: If she were forced to endure the little cunt's presence, she'd probably snap and kill her.
Oh, but taking her down sounded sooo g -
Her stomach clenched, and hot bile coated the back of her throat. Eyes widening, she leapt out of bed and rushed into the hall, her hand clamping against her mouth. God, she hoped there wasn't a line; she couldn't hold it.
Thankfully there wasn't; she slammed through the bathroom door, dropped to her knees, and threw up; puke splattered the bowl, and droplets of toilet water splashed her face. The smell washed over her, and she puked again, her vision blurring and her head aching. Her fingers gripped the slick, piss encrusted rim and she panted for breath. Please, God, no more.
But God, if He existed, had better things to do than listen to the prayer of Lacy Loud: Her stomach turned, and she dry heaved painfully, a long ribbon of bitter spit the only thing she had to give. Sudden and inexplicable tears burst from her, and she bowed her head as she began to cry.
Suddenly, someone was kneeling next to her, their hand rubbing a comforting circle between her shoulder blades. "Honey, what's wrong?" her mother asked, her voice soft with concern.
Lacy fought to catch her breath. When she was sure she wasn't going to puke again, she sniffed. "I'm sick." she moaned, and cried even harder. Her father didn't love her anymore, he loved Leia instead; her stomach hurt; she could barely sleep, hardly eat, she was failing her classes and they were going to kick her off her teams but she didn't care...she should but she didn't. She just wanted her father. "I'm sick every morning."
Mom's hand froze. "Every morning?" she asked.
"Yeah," Lacy said and sniffed again.
"Sick how?"
Lacy thought for a moment. "My stomach. It's all nauseous and it makes me puke. I think it's...it's nerves."
For a moment Mom didn't move, then with trembling hands she reached over, opened the cabinet beneath the sink, and rummaged around. Lacy expected her to bring out a bottle of Pepto or something, but when she drew back, she was holding something else.
A pregnancy test.
"Here," she said and handed it to her, "I want you to take this."
Lacy blinked, suddenly afraid. "W-Why?"
"Just do it," Mom said tightly.
Lacy plucked the device from her mother's hands and looked at it; she was trembling all over like a frightened dog. Did Mom think she was pregnant? No, she couldn't be.
"H-How do I d-do it?"
"Sit on the toilet and pee on it."
Lacy blinked. Pee on it?
"O-Okay."
She and her mother both got to their feet, Mom folding her arms across her chest and staring down at her with something like disquiet. Lacy glanced at the test then up at her mother. "Go on," Mom said and nodded toward the toilet.
Lacy swallowed nervously. "Can I have some priv -?"
"Do it," Mom said.
Blushing, Lacy yanked her shorts down to her knees, baring her girlhood. She sat on the toilet, the seat painfully cold against the warm flesh of her butt, and looked to her mother for guidance. "Hold it between your legs and pee on it."
Lacy looked at the test again, and her stomach turned. She dipped it between her legs and started to pee; it splashed her fingers, the test, and her legs. Gross. She stared down at her feet until she was done.
"Now sit it on the counter."
Lacy sat the test on the sinktop; it shook in her hand. She looked up at her mother. "You d-don't really think…?"
"You might be," Mom said tightly.
Fear went through her like icy water. She couldn't have a baby, s-she didn't know anything about babies!
Mom tapped her foot impatiently and chewed her bottom lip, which was something she only did when she was angry and trying to keep it together. Liena appeared in the doorway and started to speak, but Mom held her hand up, "Not right now. Go away."
A look of hurt crossed the girl's face, but she did as she was told, turning and scurrying back into her bedroom. Lacy swallowed around a lump in her throat and folded her hands between her legs. Her heart was racing and she felt sick again, but she didn't think she was going to puke.
She sensed someone looking at her, and glanced up to see Lupa in the doorway, her brows angled curiously down and her white hair stilly messy from sleeping. She didn't speak, only watched.
Mom leaned forward and stared down at the test; Lacy glanced hopefully at her. It's negative, right? It has to be negative.
From the way Mom's face fell, though, she knew that it wasn't.
"Goddamn it," Mom muttered under her breath. A moment passed. Then she flashed, grabbed the test, and slammed it against the counter as hard as she could. It shattered in a crunch of breaking plastic, and Lacy jumped, her heart rocketing into her chest. Mom's nostrils flared and her eyes shimmered with rage. "Goddamn it! Lincoln!" She spun, and Lupa fell back a step. Lacy gaped into thin air. She was pregnant…
She bowed her head and began to weep.
Mom grabbed the doorframe in both hands and leaned into the hall. "LINCOLN!"
"What?" he called from the end of the hall.
"COME HERE!"
Lacy's tears fell faster and she bit her lower lip to keep from making pitiful noises. Lincoln appeared at the door, a questioning expression on his face. "What?"
Lynn jabbed a finger at Lacy, and the girl cringed. "You got our daughter pregnant!" The last word practically oozed venom. She shot her arms out and shoved Lincoln back; he nearly fell but caught himself on the doorframe.
"What?" he asked stupidly.
"YOU GOT OUR DAUGHTER PREGNANT, YOU BASTARD!" She shoved him again.
Lincoln's face paled, and he threw a stricken glance at Lacy, who wept even harder. Lynn growled, pulled back her hand, and slapped Lincoln's shoulder. "You fucking piece of shit! SHE'S ONLY TWELVE!" Lynn slapped him again and again. She drew her hand back, but Lincoln snapped and shoved her back against the counter.
"Keep your hands off me, bitch," he snarled.
"You fucking piece of shit! Goddamn son of a bitch! Motherfucker." She launched herself at him, but he caught her by the wrists and held her back.
"Stop," Lacy sobbed.
"Fuck you, Lincoln, fuck you!" Lynn managed to snake one hand out of his grasp and slapped him hard across the face. His head whipped to one side...then back again, his teeth clenched and his eyes blazing. Like a shot, he grabbed her throat in both hands and pushed her back against the counter. Lynn let out a strangled cry and Lincoln bent her backwards over the sink top.
"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME, BITCH!" He backhanded her, and she moaned.
"STOP!" Lacy screamed, her hands going to her head. "PLEASE, STOP!"
Lynn threw a punch that grazed Lincoln's jaw. He clamped down on his teeth and squeezed tighter. Lynn's face was turning purple and her eyes were bugging out of her head. In a final desperate attempt at escape, she drove her knee into his crotch. He let out a pained humph and stumbled back, his hands releasing. Lynn stayed where she was for a moment, gasping greedily for breath.
"Stop!" Lupa cried. Luna, Luan, Lola, Lana, Lyra, Liena, and Lori stood around the door, watching, none of them making any attempt to intervene. Lincoln cradled his wounded package; he was bent at the waist and gasping.
"You bastard," Lynn said, her voice low and savage, "our twelve year old daughter. What now? WHAT FUCKING NOW?"
"DON'T FUCKING WORRY ABOUT IT!" Lincoln roared. "GO KICK A BALL AND PRETEND YOU DON'T HAVE A DAUGHTER, WE ALL KNOW YOU DIDN'T WANT HER!"
Lacy pressed her hands to her face and sobbed bitterly.
"You lying prick," Lynn growled, "I love my daughter. You just wanna fuck her. That's all she is to you, a hole to stick your dick in. That's what they all are to you."
"You better shut your fucking mouth, Lynn." Lincoln said. "Go somewhere and let me take care of my daughter."
Lynn laughed harshly. "You sure took care of her, alright." She threw her hips forward to simulate humping. "Father of the year!"
Lincoln trembled with rage.
Lacy moaned, and Liena and Lupa came into the bathroom, the former kneeling next to her and laying her hand on her knee and the latter standing on her other side. Liena whispered soft words of encouragement to her sister while Lupa glared at her father and her aunt; normally apathetic, she was now angry, angry because Dad got Lacy pregnant, angry because he and Lynn were arguing, again, angry because of Leia...and deep down, angry about her fucking useless legs and her fucked up life.
"You guys, like, shouldn't be fighting," Leni said from the doorway, "this is a happy time. Lacy's going to be a mommy. And Lincy's going to be a daddy."
Lynn chuckled mirthlessly. "And a grandfather and a great-uncle."
Lincoln took a deep, shuddery breath. "Just go," he said, the fight running out of his voice. He went to the toilet and kneeled down in front of Lacy. She turned her big, tearful eyes to him and he laid his hand on her thigh. "How do you feel, baby?" he asked.
Shaking her head, Lynn pushed through the crowd and left the bathroom, stopping to punch the wall; it cracked, plaster chipping off and littering the carpet.
"I don't know," Lacy said. She hugged herself and bent forward. Lincoln sighed and reached up to stroke her hair, the heel of his palm trailing across her cheek. She leaned into his touch and shivered; her mind whirled like a dark tempest, and she was cold...so cold. She couldn't be a mother...she-she couldn't.
Getting to his feet, Lincoln took her hand. "Come on," he said gently, "let's go lie down."
Lacy nodded and stood, reaching down with one hand to pull her shorts up. Slipping his arm around her shoulder, Lincoln led her through the crowd, which parted for them the way the Red Sea parted for Moses, and then into her room. A dozen set of eyes watched them go; some filled with confusion, some with concern...and one with hatred.
"Well," Lori sighed, "that was interesting."
The group dispersed, leaving only Leia behind, her teeth clenched and her hands balled into fists. She did this on purpose...she let herself get pregnant so Daddy would spend more time with her. Oh, that was low.
Enjoy that baby while you have it, Leia thought, because I'm going to kill it.
Lyra Loud started downstairs, but veered off and went into her room instead. She sat heavily on the edge of her bed, propped her elbows on her knees, and rested her face in her upturned palms. She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. Lacy was pregnant. Wow.
Her eyelids started to droop.
Part of her wanted to be excited because her sister was going to have a baby, but another part wanted to be sad because Lacy was so young. She had her whole life ahead of her, she had hopes and dreams and now, she was going to be saddled with a baby.
Putting it that way (saddled) might sound terrible, but it was true. She wouldn't be able to play sports or do anything a normal twelve-year-old did because she'd have a baby to worry about. It was kind of sad. It…
She pitched forward and nearly fell, but caught herself, her heart jerking. She sighed with frustration and threw her head back. She was soooo groggy...much groggier than she was the last time she was on this medication. Yeah, it usually took awhile to get readjusted, but it had been over two weeks and she could still hardly stay awake. She nodded off at her desk in school, on the toilet, at the dinner table, and sometimes she got so light-headed she could barely stand up. It was terrible. She briefly considered not taking today's dose, but decided against it. She would feel better, but skipping doses was like playing with fire; how many times had she done that in the past only to wind up skipping the next, then the next too, then...hello, psych ward!
Lyra sighed and got heavily to her feet. She'd just have to suffer; it was better to be groggy and tired than to be all delusional and shit. God, if she went off the deep end and hurt one of her family members, she didn't know what she'd do.
This was her curse, fighting constantly to keep her demons deep, deep inside, away from her loved ones. Her will (and her pill) was the only thing standing between them and her family, and though she fought with her siblings from time to time, she loved them, and her Dad, and her Mom and her aunts, and she would do whatever it took to protect them from the monsters in her mind.
She just wished it wasn't so hard; she'd rather almost any affliction than perpetual grogginess. Headaches, nausea...anything than existing in a constant twilight stupor.
Downstairs, all of her siblings except for Lacy and Loan, were at the dining room table. Lemy looked up and grinned, and she smiled back. He had been coming to her every night since he tried to have sex with Liby, and Lyra had come to thoroughly enjoy being with him. There was the sex (she very much liked sex), but also the cuddling afterward, Lemy couldn't carry a conversation so they didn't talk much, but they did snuggle, and that intimacy was better than all the idle pillow talk in the world. She ran her fingers through his hair as she passed and his grin widened. Someone made a disgusted tsk sound, and she looked up to see Leia glaring at her. Lyra's step faltered and she frowned. She didn't understand her little sister, she really didn't.
"Keep it moving, Skitz," Leia said sourly.
Lyra sighed and shook her head. Some people just liked being mean. Look around and you'll see them everywhere; elementary school bullies, racists, terrorists, wife beaters. Why they exist and why they feel the need to be that way was beyond Lyra, but she really wished she wasn't like that and she really hoped it was only a phase.
She was at the kitchen counter now. Two cereal boxes stood side by side. She shook the first, but it was almost empty. She moved onto the next and it was only slightly fuller. Grabbing a bowl from the cabinet, she poured some in, added milk, then carried it into the dining room, taking the open seat next to Lemy. He leaned toward her, and she kissed his forehead. "Morning," she said.
"Morning."
"How'd you sleep?" she asked and spooned some Raisin Bran into her mouth.
Lemy grunted.
She laughed. "Good." Most nights he fell asleep in her arms and stayed there until morning. Sometimes, though, he woke up and went back to his room. She liked waking up with him, and she was at the point where she was used to it.
"You sleep?"
"I slept good," she said, "I didn't want to get up this morning."
Across the table, Liby stirred her cereal with her spoon. Since Lemy tried to have sex with her, she had been a mess of nerves, sleeping poorly, constantly looking over her shoulder, and shaking like a small, frightened animal when he was around. Lyra took her aside and tired to explain that Lemy didn't want to hurt her, but she didn't understand, and Lyra guessed she couldn't blame her. It must have been traumatic for her, waking up to Lemy on top of her like that. She just wished she could grasp what was going on so that she wouldn't be so afraid; Lyra hated seeing her like that.
When breakfast was over, Lyra took hers and Lemy's dishes into the kitchen and sat them in the sink. She kissed her brother on the cheek, grabbed her backpack, and went out the door. She considered catching a ride with Liby and Aunt Luan so she wouldn't have to walk, but decided against it. She was groggy still but she liked walking, the sun and the breeze against her flesh and the smell of burning leaves tantalizing her nostrils. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly; she loved fall.
She started toward school with a long, open-mouthed yawn.
Lincoln wrapped his arms around Lacy's waist and laced his hands over her stomach, his face burying into her hair. They were spooning in her bed, Lacy's legs drawn up and her eyes staring sightlessly at Lupa's half of the room. Lincoln kissed the back of her neck and took a deep breath, her warm scent filling his nose.
They had been here for two hours, dazing and drifting in and out of fitful sleep. The whole time she was awake, Lacy's mind worked furiously. She had recovered from the initial shock of finding out she was pregnant, and the more she pondered her situation...the more excited she became. She was going to have a baby...her father's baby. She envisioned a cute little boy with a cowlick and chipped teeth, just like his daddy, and she smiled faintly.
She couldn't lie, the thought had crossed her mind that now he would give her more attention. She was carrying their child, after all.
Being pregnant, she decided now, wasn't so bad after all. She snuggled closer to her father, her butt raking across his crotch. His breath caught and she grinned to herself. He unlaced his hands and rubbed a slow, gentle circle against her stomach. "I love you," she said.
Dad didn't immediately respond. "I love you too," he said. She turned in his arms and gazed deeply into his eyes. He forced a tight smile, and her heart swelled. She laid her hand on the side of his face and caressed his cheek. He was so beautiful...so perfect...she scooted closer and pressed her lips against his. She had him now, and she wouldn't let him go.
"I'm in love with you," she said lowly, her breath mingling with his. She kissed him, her tongue darting into his mouth and caressing his. He didn't move for a moment, then he kissed her back and threaded his fingers through her hair. Her hand drifted down his rippling chest to his crotch; she cupped his growing bulge in her hand and squeezed. He moaned, and she shifted onto him, her knees planting into the mattress and caging his legs. She stared down into his big brown eyes and smiled happily.
His hands went to her hips, and she rocked against him. "I want to marry you," she said as she unbuttoned his jeans. He watched her with slack-jawed amazement. She giggled at him and pulled the tab of his zipper down. His musky smell found her nose, and she instantly dampened. She bent and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, their eyes locking and holding. "I want to have your baby…" she hooked her fingers into his underwear and pulled them down; he sprang out and her heart began to race. She lifted up, slipped out of her shorts, and tossed them away. Lust, and love, clouded her mind, and her body ran hot. "I want to have all your babies."
She pulled her shirt off and threw it away; she was entirely naked now, bared and vulnerable before the man she loved. She moved her hips, his tip grazing against her folds, and jerked down when she felt him at her entrance. He filled her, and they both gasped.
"I love you," she said. Her thoughts, her emotions, spilled from her in wave as he cupped her breasts, as she established a slow, steady pace. 'I want to be your only, Daddy. I love you. T-They don't."
She threw her head back and rocked slowly against him; his thumbs kneaded her nipples and she bowed her head. "I want to be your wife. I want to be with you forever." She pinned his shoulders to the bed and went faster, her eyes squeezing closed as the friction of his body against hers became too much to handle. "Please love me, Daddy; please love me."
"I love you," he said, and her orgasm hit her; her walls clamped around him and she froze, a shiver running through her lithe frame. Her father grew then released into her, his burning load shooting into deep and secret places, places that she had only shared with him...places that she would only share with him.
She rolled off of him, his seed spilling from between her legs, and curled up next to him. He put his arms around her and kissed her neck. "I love you, Lacy," he said.
"I love you too," she said around a smile. She snuggled closer to his warmth and closed her eyes. Soon, she was asleep.
Alone, Lincoln held his daughter and stared into space, his mind a dark tempest and his heart aching. He pressed his hand against her stomach as if to commune with the life growing in her womb and drew a deep sigh. He tried to imagine what his and Lacy's son or daughter would look like...what would be wrong with it...and he shuddered.
He loved his children, but he couldn't help thinking that he made a grave mistake by having them. They were sick, suffering, and disfigured. He loved them...but it would have been better for them if they'd never been born.
And like a dog returning to its own vomit, here he was making the same mistake again, breathing life into malformed flesh, creating something inherently broken, forcing something into the world that had no business being in the world...having a baby that would be twisted, handicapped, mentally ill, or retarded. He sighed deeply.
He really was a monster.
A cold wind blew through his soul and he dug his fingers into Lacy's stomach as if to claw the baby from her womb...as if to spare it the horror that would be its life. She muttered sleepily and stirred. "...ove you, Daddy," she murmured.
"I love you too," he said, to both her and their child. "I love you too."
Leia sat at a long desk in front of a window and stared down at the blank page before her. A purple crayon was clutched tightly in one hand and her eyes smoldered with hatred. On her right, a little black boy hummed a wordless tune as he drew a row of smiling stick figures; on her left, a little girl with a ponytail did much the same. Leia stole a glance at her paper: There were three and they were labeled...MOMMY, DADDY, ME. They wore big U-shaped smiles and held hands. Leia sneered in contempt and turned back to her own paper. She rested her forearm on the table and started to draw. First came her mother, her cellphone in her hand and her eyes glued to the screen. Next was Leia; she took great pains to render a perfect depiction of herself. Finally, she drew Daddy. He held her hand and smiled.
She liked holding hands with her father, especially because it made Lacy jealous. It also made her stay in her room, out of Leia's way, which was nice: It was almost like she was dead. She still had to suffer the ugly bitch's face at dinnertime, though, and occasionally they met in the hall, Lacy giving her dirty looks and Leia giving them right back. They largely left each other alone, though...largely: Just the other day Leia used her mouth to make Daddy cum, held it in her mouth, then snuck into Lacy's room and spit it on her pillow. Yesterday, after she and Daddy finished, she dipped her fingers between her lips, collected as much of their mingled fluids as possible, and wiped it on Lacy's door knob...then everyone else's out of spite.
Presently she grinned at the memory. A flash of movement caught her attention and she looked up to see Mrs. Morris standing over her. "I'm done, Mrs. Morris," she said.
Mrs. Morris bent over and frowned. "Where's the rest of your family? You have a lot of brothers and sisters, don't you?"
"Oh, they're not important," Leia said easily.
"That's not very nice. Of course they're important. They're your family."
Leia sighed. Rather than engage in a petty argument with her teacher, she decided to suck it up and draw the others, even though she didn't want to. She started with Lulu then ended with Lacy; squiggly stink lines surrounded her, and her face was drawn like an upside down Pac Man...because of her ugly, smelly cleft. She sat her crayon aside and studied her other siblings: Lyra's eyes were shifty to simulate her paranoia; Lupa's legs were corkscrew spirals; Loan was drooling; and Lemy was holding a lit match and looking at it the way Daddy looked at her when she was riding him.
The way he looked at Lacy when he found out she was pregnant.
Anger flared in Leia's chest, and she took a deep, calming breath. She couldn't believe that Lacy would get pregnant on purpose just to steal Daddy back. How screwed up is that? Unfortunately, Leia was too young to get pregnant hersel, or else she would. How do you like it, bitch? That would be the best payback ever. She glanced down at her stomach and glared as if at her underformed ovaries.
That was okay, though; Lacy and her precious little baby had something coming to them. She had to decide what approach she wanted to take, though. Her original plan (the one that required Lemy) still appealed to her, but after this, she was thinking some a little more...hands on.
"That's very good, Leia," Mrs. Morris said, startling her.
I know, Leia thought. Out loud, however, she said, "Thank you."
The teacher went away, and Leia sat back in her chair. Until she took care of that bitch, she'd have to compete with her for Daddy's attention, which was not fair. She shouldn't have to compete...or share.
Daddy should be hers.
And when Lacy was dead, he would be…