Chapter 3

I knew all too well. Staying at the Children's Home would only drain every dollar Michael had, and nobody was ever going to show me any kindness.

I couldn't bring myself to sleep in a bed where someone had died.

I clutched my shirt, took a shaky breath, and finally looked up at Michael. "I can't stay here anymore.

"Just give me some money, and I'll find a place to rent. I can take care of myself."

"I don't need 30 thousand dollars. Several hundred bucks is all I need."

As long as I could rent a place and pay the tuition, I could figure out the rest. I could work hard for scholarships and try to find ways to earn money.

I was fourteen now.

Although I was not an adult yet, and I didn't know how much longer I could live, at least I was not that kid who needed my brother to carry me to school and cook for me every time I got sick.

I could take care of myself for the little time I had left.

More than anything, I hoped Michael could finally keep some money for himself and stop living like this.

Before I could finish thinking, Michael's voice came out low and tense, barely holding back his anger. "Evelyn, the money I earn isn't for you to waste or fool around with.

"Mr. Warren's doing you a favor by letting you stay here.

"If you don't appreciate it, then sneak out at night and see if you can make it on your own. Nobody's gonna care if you live or die.

"Don't bother asking me for money."

My eyes were bloodshot, and finally, I snapped. "I don't care. I'm not staying here anymore.

"If I get my own place, you'll actually have more money left over. Isn't that a good thing?

"How many years have you been wearing that work jacket? It's so big on you now.

"When you wore it to meet Emily's parents, they didn't let you in the door because they thought you were too poor for her."

Michael suddenly raised his hand at me, his face twisted with shame and fury. "Evelyn, stay out of my life."

I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut. But the slap I was bracing for never came.

I opened my eyes and saw his face, pale and gaunt, his hand frozen mid-air before he finally lowered it, his expression a mix of anger and shame.

Thinking back, it seemed like it was always like that. He'd get so mad and bitter, saying he'd hit me. But he never did, not once.

I felt like my throat was stuffed with cotton, my eyes stinging and my jaw trembling as I forced the words out. "Then stay out of my life, too."

Michael's eyes burned with hatred as he stared me down. "You think I want to be stuck taking care of you? All these years... you think I ever wanted this?"

He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of James's office.

All these years, things between us had always been a mess. But he didn't want everyone at the Children's Home to see us as a joke.

Once we were alone, he shoved me away.

His face was twitching, his eyes red at the corners. His voice trembled, so full of hate that it was almost desperate. "It took everything I had to send you away.

"And now I had to invite my leader out for drinks tonight, to beg him for a shot at the warehouse supervisor job."

His voice trembled, his breathing getting more frantic and uneven. "For years, I've worked as a loader, hauling freight off trucks that stretched over 30 feet, truckload after truckload.

"My back's ruined. My shoulders and neck are all messed up. Whenever it rains or gets damp, my wrists and knees ache like hell.

"After everything, I finally thought I was free of you. I thought I could beg for a halfway decent job and start living like a real person."

His eyes were bloodshot, burning with emotion.

He finally fell silent, words stuck in his throat, his gaze razor-sharp, still pinned on me like a blade.

For a split second, I thought he was about to break down and cry right in front of me.

It had been ten years. We had fought so many times over the years. Whenever he was about to fall apart, I always got that same feeling. But not once did I ever see him actually cry.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I turned away, panicked and awkward, desperate to avoid his eyes.

His voice came out hoarse and confused, sounding totally lost. "Why? Evelyn, why can't I ever get rid of you?"

I still wanted to defend myself.

I wanted to tell him I had no idea he was planning to take his leader out for drinks tonight.

I wanted to say I never meant to make a scene at the Children's Home.

I wanted to say it was that girl who started it, not me.

I also wanted to say that getting my own place was because I wanted to save him more money.

He'd be twenty-five by the end of the year. Many guys his age who barely finished high school had kids already.

If he wanted to marry Emily Winters, his girlfriend, he needed money.