By V. C. Andrews
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Additional resources for Cinnamon
It's much easier to sound convincing when you talk to an ear and not a pair of eyes. I knew Daddy was lying, but I didn't know why. It never occurred to me what the reason might be. Maybe I was spending a little too much time in my make-believe world, "We'd better head home," he said. "You've got schoolwork to do. " I said. " "I might help her be comfortable in an uncomfortable place," I countered. I could hold my gaze on Daddy so firmly that he would be the first to look away. Mammy taught me how to do that.
Dust particles spun in the beam of the light, glistening like particles of diamonds. It had been a while since Mommy and I were up here. When we were coming up here more frequently, we did do some cleaning, washing down the two windows and sills, vacuuming and some polishing. We wanted it to maintain its special charm, but we wanted it to be clean enough to inhabit as well. If there were rodents up here, they were excellent at keeping themselves invisible. We never found any droppings and the worst thing we did discover were spiders.
Grandmother Beverly felt the power that comes with being right, predicting accurately and then never letting us forget it. She was practically beating Daddy over the head with this tragedy daily, shoving his face in the reality. washing out his mouth with her soap of truth. The first two nights, he came to the hospital directly from work, looking fatigued, defeated. The market happened to be down, too, and that was depressing him. Some of his best clients were blaming him for his recommendations, he said.