Chapter 3

The rain poured down.

My spending was restricted. I couldn't even get a ride-share, so I braved the downpour and squeezed onto the oldest, most dilapidated bus.

I was soaked to the bone, shivering so hard my teeth chattered.

Memories of my years in that house flooded back.

Ten years ago, my biological father died in a car accident, and my mother, Brenda Hayes, took all the insurance money. She immediately married Richard Stone, a worthless man.

Soon after, she gave birth to twin sons, Liam and Noah.

From then on, I was treated worse than a dog.

The twins ate imported seafood and wore designer clothes, while I wore hand-me-downs and ate their leftovers.

I paid for my tuition and living expenses by collecting recyclables, handing out flyers, and earning scholarships.

I thought that if I worked hard enough, if I flew high enough, I could escape them.

But I never imagined they could be this cruel.

Bang! I kicked open the front door.

Inside was a stark contrast to my drenched, pathetic state outside.

In the warm living room, a huge crystal chandelier cast a soft glow.

Brenda Hayes sat on the leather sofa, carefully peeling expensive imported cherries and feeding them to Liam and Noah.

My stepfather, Richard Stone, lounged in his massage chair, a glass of red wine in his hand, humming along to the TV.

They both turned at the sound of the door crashing open.

"Are you crazy?! If you break the door, can you pay for it?!" Richard's beady eyes widened, and he started swearing.

Brenda frowned, looking at my dripping clothes with disgust. "What the hell is wrong with you? Weren't you supposed to leave for school today? Why are you back? You're getting dirt all over your brothers' rug!"

Liam and Noah threw their toy cars at me, laughing and making faces. "The loser's back! The loser couldn't leave!"

A toy car hit my forehead, raising a large bump.

But I felt no pain.

I strode forward and slammed the rain-soaked, crumpled credit report onto the expensive coffee table.

My chest heaved as I glared at them.

"Brenda Hayes! Richard Stone! Explain to me what this one-million-dollar loan and the shell company involved in fraud are all about?!"

My voice was a raw, ghostly shriek that echoed through the living room.