Chapter 3

The slap was so powerful that it knocked me flat onto the floor.

A strong, iron taste spread in my mouth, so I purposely let it drip from the corner of my lips.

When my dad saw the blood, he froze for a second, but his face stayed locked in pure fury.

I looked past him and saw Emily lounging on the couch, legs crossed, wearing a miniskirt that almost exposed her ass. She was staring at me with a mocking gaze.

Her meaning was obvious: "Don't think I can't see through your crap just because you're pretending to be innocent."

When I sat there without saying a word, my dad kicked me right in the side. "Answer me. Did you hand over the cash I gave you to that old bat?"

I got up, not even trying to deny it. "Yeah."

Another slap hit me, even harder than before. I barely had time to steady myself before I was sent sprawling again.

There was a cabinet right beside me, and the momentum carried me headfirst right into it.

It was like an ancient bell had been struck, the sound echoing through my skull and making me nearly black out.

My forehead was on fire, and I could feel the skin had split open. When I touched it, my hand came away smeared with blood.

Seeing the blood on my forehead, my dad finally stopped. He stood there, shooting daggers at me, chest heaving as a golden retriever yanked around by a greyhound.

Half of it was rage, and the rest was pure fear.

I said, my voice shaky, "Dad, if I don't help Mom out with some cash, I'm gonna get beaten to death at school.

"Everyone at school calls me a motherless freak, and says I'm a bastard who only wants her dad and doesn't give a damn about her mom."

I choked up on purpose, deliberately smeared blood across my face, then rolled up my sleeves and flashed the mess of scars on my arms.

I continued, "Every day at school, I get my ass kicked. Even the teachers can't take it anymore. They say I'm rotten and messed up in the head.

"I don't want everyone at school thinking I'm some loser, so I went to see Mom, gave her some cash, hoping they'd stop laughing at me and beating me up."

With blood smeared all over my face, I said, "Dad, I know Emily hates me, and you don't want me living here either."

I started bawling on purpose, making sure my cries echoed through the house. "Stop hitting me. I'm leaving, okay?"

After that, I grabbed my backpack, yanked the door open, and stormed out.

I'd barely made it a few steps before Emily's shrill voice rang out from inside the villa. "What are you standing around for? Hurry up and drag her back here.

"Are you seriously letting her walk out looking like that? You want the neighbors to start pointing fingers at me?"

My dad knew I couldn't leave. He'd only just taken me back, and if people found out he was kicking me out again, no one knew what kind of crazy rumors would start spreading.

But that moment of hesitation was all it took. Some neighbors out for a walk had already spotted me, blood smeared all over my face.

By the time my dad yanked me back inside, at least a dozen people had seen me looking like hell.

Ten minutes later, the villa door was suddenly pounded on.

My dad went to open it, only to find two cops standing right outside.

"We've received a report of child abuse at this residence. We're going to need you to cooperate with our investigation," one of the officers said.

My dad had no choice but to grit his teeth and let the cops inside.

As soon as the cops walked in, they saw me standing meekly in the living room, a bandage wrapped around my head.

The officers turned to my dad, who was standing behind me. "What's going on here? Explain yourself."

Emily gave my dad a cold, unimpressed look, zero sympathy, and she couldn't even be bothered to cover for him.

She shrugged. "Who knows how she got hurt? Most likely, she ran into something because she wasn't paying attention."

The officer turned to her. "And who are you?"

Emily played with her nails, flicked her chin at my dad, and said, "I'm his wife."

The officer nodded, like it finally clicked. "Ah, makes sense now. So, you're the stepmom."