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Summary
“Don’t pretend you’re doing this for me.” The thought of a ballroom filled with clapping people flits through Vel’s mind – her mother smiling, basking in the glow, with no regard for the devastation she is leaving behind. It makes Vel want to throw up.
Her mother sighs again. This time, it sounds more like defeat than exasperation. “I’m your mother. I want what’s best for you.”
Vel shakes her head. Her eyes sting. “Do you even see me?” she asks, hating how her voice breaks. “Or is this just your do-over?”
Or: Vel through the years and her quest to carve out a space for herself in a galaxy that’s far from kind.