Office Hours

19 | the b u s t e d

| G R A C E |

     THE FOLLOWING MORNING AT SCHOOL, Emily was showing Grace her phone. "Look! Someone recorded the conversation between you and that bitch. It made the gossip page."

"What?" Grace asked, heart dropping as she grabbed the phone.

I shouldn't have let Emily pressured me to do that. I gained nothing but bad rep and my dad always warns me about that.

Her thoughts ate away at her mind until she was curled in her bed the night. Tears were streaming down her face from more reasons than one.

Her mom knocked then entered the room, rushing over when she saw Grace crying. "What happened, sweetheart?"

I'm not telling her about what happened at school. She has enough on her plate.

"I feel guilty sometimes," Grace confessed.

"Shh! Dn't let anyone hear you say that," Whitney said, looking about the room as if there were hidden microphones.

"Who'll hear me?" Grace asked with a bitter laugh, drying her tears then sitting up. "No one lives in this big house except me, you and dad!"

Right then, Christian stormed into the room. His phone was tightly clenched in a hand. "What is this, Grace?!" he barked, skin turning red from anger.

"What is it?" Whitney asked, slowly approaching her husband.

Christian aggressively brushed her off and shoved the phone in Grace's face. Her heart sank when she saw GreySlate's homepage decorated with last night's post.

"You will not drag my family's name through the mud!" Christian warned. "How do you think this will reflect on me?! I have given you everything and you do nothing but try to tarnish my legacy!"

Grace's eyes swelled with unshed tears. Christian taught her to never allow anyone to see her cry.

But Caden did. . .

"I'm sorry," she apologized like she was used to doing. "It was a mistake."

"Everything is a mistake with you, Grace!"

Whitney took a step forward. "Christian, calm down and let's talk about this-"

Angry, Christian spun around and gave Whitney's face a scorching slap. Grace flinched but kept her eyes trained on the floor. The situation happened so many times before, she learned not to intervene.

"I'm speaking to my daughter. Stay in your place," he snarled before turning to Grace. "I have done everything to protect my family and all you've done is disappoint me! I gave you good friends to keep. . . you befriended that stupid girl that almost dragged you down with her. I gave you a boyfriend. . . you choose that stupid black boy! Now you're on this page and, and-"

"Christian. . ." Whitney pleaded, placing herself between him and their daughter when she noticed him moving towards Grace.

He wiped a hand down his face, exasperated. "I can't even get this page deleted because the damage has already been done. You better pray on Sunday that this doesn't mess with my reelection run, Grace. And I never want to see you on that page again. Understood?"

Grace robotically nodded.

With a huff, Christian left the room and Whitney released a relieved breath before taking a seat beside Grace.

Grace looked away from the palm print on her mom's face. She knew better than to comment on it. By tomorrow, Whitney would put on her doll-face and the trio would play the façade of the perfect Jackson family.