What no one knows is Miss Parker owns a bottle of pale pink glittery nail polish, the watery kind you buy at a corner drugstore for ninety-nine cents. It's been sitting in her desk drawer so long the pink has separated, tendrils of glitter curled at the top, heavy pink faded almost to white coating the bottom. She bought it the night of her first day at The Center, after Daddy told her he had always known she would be his perfect successor, she's always been so good at pushing emotions aside and doing what needs to be done.
Just like a man, he'd said.
Just like a man with a bottle of pale pink glittery nail polish, that she'll never wear, but always hold onto. Because sometimes Daddy's belief system gets a little screwed up, and he doesn't seem to understand she's just like a woman. Not the way he sees women, all pink and glitter, but then again lately she's realized defying Daddy's expectations isn't something she needs to be afraid of.