Chapter 3

• Martha panicked and tried to shut the door, but it was too late.
• Mom and Dad’s footsteps came closer.
• Soon enough, mom’s voice drifted in, full of contempt. “I told you this old hag couldn’t be trusted!"
• Her rage filled the room. "Of course she ran off to feed that little bitch! Looks like everyone’s itching to rebel!”
• The storage room door slammed open. The light stabbed my one good eye, and I squinted.
• Mom stood in the doorway, her gaze pinning on Martha and me before dropping to the half‑eaten roll in my hand.
• “Well, well, Green. You two‑faced traitor. What gave you the guts to go against me?”
• Martha was shaking all over, hands flapping, words tripping over themselves. “Ma’am, I… I just felt so sorry for the kid."
• She swallowed hard. "She’s lost so much blood, and I….”
• “Sorry?”
• Mom let out a cold laugh.
• “When Grace was lying in bed waiting to die because of her, why didn’t you feel sorry for Grace?"
• Hatred filled her eyes. "You’re just like her. Ungrateful trash.”
• She sneered. “Pack your stuff and get the hell out. Now. Immediately. Right this second.”
• “Ma’am!” Martha gasped. “I’ve worked here for ten years!”
• “Out!”
• Mom pointed at the front door.
• Dad stood behind her, silent from start to finish.
• Martha looked at me, helplessness filling her eyes, before turning to leave.
• With her gone, the last bit of warmth in the room vanished too.
• Mom came at me step by step, her heels clacking on the concrete. Tap, tap, tap.
• She snatched the roll from my hand, threw it to the floor, and crushed it under her heel until it disintegrated into the crumbs.
• “You want to eat? Then eat that! I told you to eat!”
• She grabbed my collar and hauled me off the ground, so hard I could barely breathe.
• “You ungrateful mutt."
• She kicked the crumbs away. “We, the Black family, feed you and clothe you, let you have anything you want."
• Mom glared at me. "And this is how you pay us back? Huh?”
• “Kh—kh….”
• Her fingers crushed my throat, and the only sound I could make was a ragged groan.
• “If it weren’t for Grace, you think trash like you could even step into our house?"
• Mom's face darkened. "You should’ve died in that orphanage.”
• “Victoria, enough.”
• Dad finally spoke, his voice ripe with impatience.
• “Why waste your breath? We’re taking her straight to the hospital tomorrow."
• He shrugged. "Once she’s on the table, it’s not up to her.”
• Mom finally loosened her grip.
• I collapsed to the floor, gulping for air.
• She looked down at me, eyes dripping with contempt and disgust.
• Then a cold smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
• She yanked me by the arm and dragged me upstairs.
• I had no idea what she was going to do. Terror shook me to the core.
• She stopped at the very end of the hall, in front of the last door.
• Grace’s room.
• She shoved my face against the frosted glass of the door and whispered, “Look. Take a good, long look.”
• Through the frosted glass, I saw Grace on the bed, hooked up to machines that beeped in steady little bursts.
• Her face was pale. She was frighteningly thin.
• “See it? This is all because of you.”
• Mom's fingers dug into my arm like claws.
• “Every time you hesitate, every time you push back, you shove Grace closer to the grave."
• Mom pushed me closer to the door. "Her life is in your hands, you executioner.”
• My heart clenched so hard I couldn’t breathe.
• Just then, Grace turned her head with effort, looking at the door.
• Our eyes met through the frosted glass.
• She forced her lips to form a word: Go.
• Then she gave the tiniest shake of her head.
• The second I saw her mouth the word and shake her head, all my doubts and fears vanished.
• Grace hadn’t forgotten. She was waiting for me.
• Mom was still cursing in my ear, but I couldn’t hear her anymore.
• In my world, there was only Grace’s gaze.
• And our promise.
• “Eight in the morning tomorrow. Prep for surgery.”
• After she’d vented enough, Mom tossed me to the floor and headed to the master bedroom.
• “Richard, keep an eye on her,” she commanded.
• Then she added, “If she runs again or tries to kill herself, I’ll make you pay.”
• With that, the door shut. I was alone in the hall.
• I pushed myself up, steadied myself on the wall, and walked back to the basement storage room like I always did.
• Only this time, there were no tears in my eyes.