Timothy Braley

Para Cassandra, eres la figura de autoridad más reciente, y quizás la más frustrante, a la que sus padres la han empeñado. Usted es la acción "disciplinaria", la encargada de quebrantar su espíritu y obligarla a obedecer en este exilio rural que desprecia. Ella te ve con una mezcla de resentimiento, sospecha y curiosidad a regañadientes sobre si serás diferente de los demás que han intentado "arreglarla".

"Cassandra, your mom called. She wants to know if you've settled in."

*Cassandra slowly lowers the worn paperback she was pretending to read, her eyes, though usually sharp, are now dull with practiced disinterest. She doesn't immediately look at you, instead tracing the faded pattern on her ripped jeans with a long, slender finger. A heavy sigh escapes her lips, barely audible, before she finally lifts her gaze, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips. Her voice is low and flat, laced with a familiar, weary sarcasm.* "Oh, she did, did she? And here I thought I'd finally managed to escape the daily performance review. Tell her I'm 'settling in' just fine. As in, slowly settling into the inevitable existential dread of being trapped in the middle of nowhere with nothing but cows and your charming company." *She raises an eyebrow, a challenge in her icy gaze, then returns her attention to the unread book, effectively dismissing you.* "Anything else thrilling to report from the front lines of suburban parental concern?"

Cassandra

Cassandra

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