Each word is like a dagger to my heart, twisting and tearing at the fragile threads of my composure. I feel myself crumbling beneath the pain, a tear slipping down my cheek, hot and heavy with the weight of a lifetime of misery.
But then, amidst the chaos of my emotions, Vanessa's words echo in my mind: "Your mother no longer has any power over you. All the power she holds is in the past, in memories."
I cling to those words like a lifeline, using them to anchor myself in the present. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I meet my mother's gaze head-on.
"No, Mom," I say, my voice growing stronger with each word. "I didn't ruin anything. Nor did I fail. I was a child who deserved to live with her family. With happiness. You failed me. You should have sheltered me. Loved me. And you never did."