66 Bronson

“I did nothing of the sort.” I point my finger out at her as the other hand slams down the bottle of bourbon. Clara has now come around towards the kitchen and stands directly in front of the bar where all of my past haunts me. It’s ironic really, watching as her anger courses through her as she stands in front of the items, she has sent to torture me.

“You did Bronson. You know your choices cost father and mother everything they were working hard for. Raul called and you came running to him. We warned you, everyone warned you that he only wished for someone to carry on his legacy, but you didn’t listen, and now look. Look at what you have to offer. Your soul is gone, even I can see that.”

“Enough.” I shout. I am done with this conversation. Done with my sister accusing me of things that are simply untrue. She says she came here to speak with me, to explain why my family no longer hates me, hates who I’ve become, she’s doing a terrible job of it. “I need you to leave.”