Chapter 3
I tried not to cry and mumbled, "Sorry, Grandma. I'm sorry. I'll get it done right now..."
With Grandma watching like a hawk, I only gave Julian and Hazel a tiny bit of breakfast.
Still, a slap landed hard on my face.
"You lazy, greedy brat. Get back to the woodshed and don't come near your sister."
I kept my head down and hurried away, not daring to say a word.
I was terrified she'd hit me harder if I stayed another second.
When I walked into the woodshed, Hazel jumped up. Her eyes landed on the red mark on my face, and she gasped.
"Did someone hit you?"
Julian didn't say anything, but he looked upset.
I pretended not to hear, brought in a small chair, and set down the bowl of oatmeal.
"Breakfast. You guys share it. I've got work to do."
Hazel quickly grabbed my arm.
"What about you? Aren't you eating?"
"I already ate."
My stomach growled, betraying me.
"She didn't eat last night either," Julian said suddenly, his eyes fixed on me.
Hazel frowned. "Are they abusing you?"
They were about to say more when Grandma's shrill voice rang out.
"Sophie Turner! Where the hell are you? Get over here!"
I rushed out, calling back over my shoulder, "Don't leave any leftovers, or I'll get yelled at again."
In the yard, Grandma was grabbing chickens from the coop.
Normally, she'd count every single egg and stash them away, worried I'd sneak one when she wasn't looking.
But now that Lily was home, Grandma just waved her hand and decided to kill two chickens, like it was nothing.
"Kids need good food to grow strong. One for dinner tonight, one for you to take back to the city."
Grandma flashed Mom and Dad a warm smile.
It was like she'd completely forgotten I was just a kid too.
"Come on, you do it—kill the chicken."
Grandma shoved the knife into my hands.
The icy blade touched my skin and I instinctively recoiled.
"Why are you just standing there? Trying to slack off again?"
Grandma kicked me hard in the back, and I nearly fell.
The knife slipped, slicing my hand before cutting through the chicken's neck—blood splattered all over my face.
I let the blood drip from my hand, not bothering to wipe it. Grandma saw and shrieked.
"Get out of my sight! You can't even handle something this simple.
"Look at your damn blood. You did this on purpose, didn't you? No lunch for you today!"
Dazed, I got shoved back into the woodshed.
I was shaking all over, like I'd been tossed into an ice cave.
Hazel had heard the commotion and was peeking through the crack in the door.
She rushed over, flustered, trying to bandage my hand.
When she grabbed my wrist, she froze, clearly taken aback.
My arms were so skinny. Just bones.
And my hands—rough, callused, covered in raw, oozing frostbite sores.
Outside, I could hear Mom, Dad, and Lily talking.
"The mountains look so pretty with all the snow! I want to take pictures!" Lily exclaimed.
"Alright, but bundle up, sweetie, or you'll catch a cold."
"Where's Sophie? She's always heading up the mountain. Let her show us the way."
"Why call her? She's not close to us anyway. It's just awkward having her around."
Hazel's face fell.
"Those are your real parents?"
"I think so," I mumbled, then headed out like a robot.
After finishing my chores for the day, I still managed to sneak a little food to Julian and Hazel in the woodshed.
That night, Hazel refused to share the bed with Julian.
Instead, she lay down on the floor with me.
She touched my forehead and gasped—it was burning. She quickly took off her down jacket and wrapped it around me.
An unprecedented fragrance and warmth enveloped me.
I was stunned momentarily, and before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face.
I almost called out for Mom, but I bit it back.
Maybe it was the fever, but for once, even my heart felt warm that night.
When I woke up the next morning, it was already bright outside.
Grandma was yelling in the yard. I shot up instinctively.
"I slept in? Wait, no, I—"
Hazel and Julian heard the shout and reached out to grab me.
But I staggered outside anyway, tripping and landing right at Grandma's feet.
"You worthless brat, getting lazier by the day, aren't you?
"Busy fussing over that nuisance in the woodshed, huh? Always siding with strangers instead of your own family."
Her anger turned into a mocking laugh as she grabbed my hair and dragged me over.
She snatched up the iron snow shovel and slammed it into my back.
I curled up in pain, gasping for air.
"Grandma, I'm bored. I want to build a snowman," Lily whined.
She just stood there, totally unfazed.
Her eyes darted around, then she pointed right at me.
"Let's make Sophie the snowman!"
She grabbed a clump of snow and smeared it across my face, then called out, "Mom, Dad, come play with us!"
Mom and Dad walked over and slipped gloves onto her hands, completely ignoring me, barely conscious on the ground.
"Be careful, sweetie. You'll freeze."
Lily giggled, scooping up snow and dumping it on top of me.
Snowflakes slipped down my neck, sending chills through me.
My face went numb from the cold, and I couldn't stop trembling.
But Mom and Dad scolded, "It's just a bit of snow. Why can't you play along with your sister?"
Suddenly, a voice interrupted.
"You don't want this kid, do you? I'll raise her.
"Just name your price."