I opened my mouth to answer, but she did not give me the chance. Her tone sliced through me before I could even offer the oranges.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you trying to ruin my career?\u201d she snapped. \u201cDo you know who I\u2019m meeting today? The press is inside. Investors. People who think I came from nothing. People who believe my mother died when I was six.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
She crossed her arms. \u201cDo not look at me like that. You know what this is. You\u2019re not part of my story anymore. You\u2019re a liability.\u201d<\/p>\n
A liability. That was the word she used. Not mother, not visitor, not even mistake. A liability.<\/p>\n
Then she leaned in, her voice trembling\u2014not with sadness, but with rage. \u201cDo not call me your daughter. I am the product of drive, of ambition. You\u2014\u201d she pointed at me like a stain \u201c\u2014you were a biological accident I clawed my way out of.\u201d<\/p>\n
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