Chapter 1

Nora Jennings, the daughter of Dad's first love Claire Jennings, accused me of breaking her pencil.

Dad said I owed Nora an apology—but my mom had to pay the price. He took my mom's kidney and gave it to Nora.

The day Mom came home from the hospital, her wound was still bleeding.

I couldn't wake her up.

I watched helplessly as her body grew cold.

Terrified, I burst into tears and pounded on the master bedroom door.

"Dad, I'm sorry! I'll be good, I promise. Please just check on Mom—she won't answer me!"

My wailing sounded especially harsh in the empty villa.

But all I heard back were muffled sounds from inside the room.

Dawn crept in through the window.

Finally, the door opened.

Dad stood there shirtless, covered in red marks.

He stared at me with a twisted, cruel smile.

He spat, "You're a bad seed.

"I'm not your father. Who knows whose bastard you really are?

"Don't call me Dad anymore. Call me Mr. Foster. Got it?"

A week later, the police burst into the villa.

Mom's body was carried out under a white sheet.

That same day, Dad came home with Claire and Nora.

"Where's your mom? Tell her to make dinner for Claire," he said.

I clutched the urn to my chest, tears streaming down my face.

"Mr. Foster, Mom's dead," I whispered.

*****

When the police burst in, I was digging through the kitchen trash for rotten eggs to eat.

The neighbors who'd gathered outside were gagging from the smell inside the villa.

A pretty female officer pulled me into her arms.

"Sweetheart, where are your parents? Why are you here alone?"

I pointed upstairs to the attic where Mom and I stayed.

"I don't have a dad. My mom's sick. Can you call an ambulance? She hasn't eaten in days," I said.

When they opened the door, I saw what was under the blanket.

Stains so old they'd turned black.

Mom was lying exactly where she'd been a week ago, only now her body was stiff and cold.

The police and neighbors went pale when they saw Mom.

"She's been dead for days. Poor kid's only four—she doesn't understand. Probably thought her mom was just sleeping."

"The kid says she doesn't have a dad. Was the mom raising her alone?"

I didn't know what "dead" meant.

Finally, the ambulance arrived.

But the paramedics didn't give Mom any medicine or try to help her.

They just covered her up with a white sheet.

That was the last time I saw her.

Only then did I understand.

Dead meant she was gone forever. I'd never see her again.

I didn't have a mom anymore.

I chased after the ambulance, hoping maybe Mom would come back.

My little legs couldn't keep up at all.

Mom always waited for me, but not this time.

I tripped and fell, scraping my palms bloody.

There was no one left to kiss my wounds and make them better.

On the big screen across the street, the city's richest man and his perfect family played on a loop.

I fell to the ground and watched the ambulance taking Mom turn into a white speck, then disappear completely.

"So young, and now she's gone. Left a little girl behind who doesn't even get what's happened. Who knows where her dad is—probably out screwing around. They say she's been dead for at least a week. That jerk probably hasn't been home in days. The absolute worst," a neighbor muttered.

"Look at the city's richest man. Handsome, wealthy, and actually loves his wife and kid. You really have to choose carefully. People are just worlds apart."

"Guess happiness and heartbreak just don't mean the same to everyone."

I didn't know if people could truly understand each other's joy and pain.

But I knew the man everyone called perfect.

He was the same man they called jerk.

I pushed through the crowd of gawking neighbors.

I just wanted to go back to the villa, to my room, where Mom's scent still lingered—even mixed with that awful smell.

Alone in the empty villa, I was overcome with fear and instinctively called Dad.

When he answered, I could hear water splashing on the other end.

"Dad..." I whimpered.

He cut me off, furious. "Lydia, keep your bastard under control. If you bother me again, you and that brat are out of the Foster family for good."

There was a time when Dad used to kiss me, toss me in the air, and make me laugh.

He'd always call me his sweet little angel.

But ever since Claire and Nora came back from overseas, he stopped. Now he just called me a bastard.

I gathered my courage. "Mr. Foster, they said Mom is dead. Could you come home and stay with me?"

A long pause, then a mocking laugh.

"Lydia, is this your new trick? Teaching a kid to lie? You really have no shame.

"Haven't I been good to you? Even after you cheated, even after you dumped that bastard on me, did I complain?

"Just one year—that's all I need to chase the dream I gave up when I was young. Once I make it, I'll come home.

"You owe Claire a year. And you owe me, too.

"And that kidney? That's what your bastard owed Nora.

"There's only ten days left. You're really that desperate? Can't even wait ten more days?"

Dad hung up impatiently before I could tell him—Mom wouldn't be waiting for him anymore. And he would never again reach the woman who once loved him.

While eating bread the neighbor girl gave me, I managed to contact my uncle, who worked for a classified government agency.

His job was sensitive, so he said he needed seven days before he could come get me.

Grandpa found me standing outside the neighbor girl's door, knocking and hoping for food to last me the next seven days.

He pulled me into a hug, his voice thick with emotion.

"Anna, Grandpa's here. My sweet girl, how did you get so skinny? I just found out what that monster did to you. I promise I'll make this right."

I shook my head. "You don't have to, Mr. Carson Foster.

"Mr. Foster has a new woman and daughter now. He doesn't want Mom or me anymore. And I don't want him either. I just want to find my uncle."

When Grandpa heard me call Dad "Mr. Foster" instead of "Dad," and "Mr. Carson Foster" instead of "Grandpa," his eyes reddened at the distance in my words.

Grandpa hired a nanny to take care of me, making sure I was fed and looked after.

After all that waiting, I finally received a small urn.

They said my mom was inside.

I hugged the urn to my chest, holding Mom as close as I could.

I whispered, "Mom, let's not care about Mr. Foster anymore, okay? Will you come with me to find Uncle?"

But the urn couldn't gently say "okay" like Mom used to.