Chapter 5

At dawn, I was jolted awake by the sound of crying. Before I could process what was happening, a hand violently dragged me off my cot.

My mother hauled me into the living room, pointing at the shredded dresses inside Brooke’s open suitcase.

"Did you do this?" she screamed.

"Chloe, what kind of monster did I raise? Cutting up someone else's clothes?!"

"You miserable little curse! I worked my fingers to the bone raising you! Even a stray dog wags its tail, but you? You walk around with that dead face every single day! Do I owe you something?!"

My head was spinning. I grabbed the hem of my mother's shirt, shaking my head desperately.

"It wasn't me..."

"It really wasn't me! Why can't you believe me just once?"

Brooke was curled on the floor, weeping softly like a wounded kitten.

"Chloe, I know you hate me, but Eleanor bought those dresses for me with her own hard-earned money. How could you ruin them like this?"

My mother's expression softened instantly as she turned to Brooke, her voice dropping into a gentle hush. "It’s okay, Brooke. Don't cry. Once we get to the resort, I’ll buy you new ones. Even prettier ones."

Then she turned back to me, pointing to the hard, uncarpeted floor in the corner.

"Who else could it be? I saw the way you were glaring at her bags yesterday. You were plotting this all along."

"Go kneel."

Tears streamed down my cheeks in silence. I walked over to the corner and sank to my knees.

The tears hit the wooden floor without a sound.

I looked out the window at the rising morning sun. It looked so warm, yet I felt as if I were trapped beneath a sheet of ice, shivering down to my bones.

At least she didn't hit me this time.

Usually, when I was made to kneel, she would whip me with a plastic hanger.

I was always quiet. I never cried out. Eventually, she would tire herself out and stop.

The next day, she would always cook my favorite meal.

That was her way of offering an olive branch, a silent apology.

But this time, I knelt there for hours, right until they were ready to leave.

My knees had gone completely numb. It took everything I had just to stand up.

I limped after them to the front door as they were getting into the cab.

Before the door closed, I called out.

"Mom... I’m sorry."

Limping forward, I wrapped my arms around her in a brief hug, then stepped back.

My mother froze for a second, looking slightly awkward.

"Don't think hugging me makes this okay."

"Make sure you call Mrs. Davis about that job."

I nodded, watching the cab pull away.

"Goodbye, Mom. This is the last time."