Back-stabbing

The ridiculous discussion about Erin becoming some sort of concubine for Kieran was tossed out pronto. Kieran stood next to me quietly as I told Erin off. She was never to bring up the topic again, ever. Erin sat in the hospital bed with her head bowed, snivelling. Her eyes and nose were red from crying and, I hoped, from shame. I also told—no, ordered—her to give up the stupid idea of hurting herself. It wasn’t going to accomplish anything. Erin said nothing. As soon as she was discharged from the hospital, I shipped her off to a boarding school. It was still in the city, but she wouldn’t be living under the same roof as me and Kieran, which, to be honest, was a huge relief. She was reluctant to move, kept dragging her feet with excuses of headache and needing to pack, but gave in when she saw my patience was wearing thin. I gave her an ultimatum—get her ass to the school, or get lost. She reported for class the next day. In less than two days, she’d managed to find two dozen excuses