Chapter 2

Every day, there were sheep to run and work that never ended.

They had meat on the table, and none of it came to me.

Potatoes were all I got.

One in the morning, one at noon, and half of one at night.

When I got desperate enough to beg from the neighbors, some of them made me beg out loud and call them sir before they threw me a stale roll.

Others kicked me over and told me to get lost.

At night I slept in the sheep pen, and in winter, with no blanket, I pressed up against the sheep to stay warm.

The door and windows were low, and the family I remembered always went blurry behind my tears.

I tipped my head back to keep the tears in and showed off with a grin.

"You don't know this, but every time I was close to freezing or starving, I dreamed about my parents and my brother.

"They were so good to me. Mom and Dad gave me my favorite toys, and my brother held me and called me his little sweetheart."

The teasing smile went stiff on Jack's face.

The food came out, every one of the house specials.

He put a rib on my plate and sounded uncomfortable about it. "Eat something."

I pushed the rolling in my stomach back down and shook my head with my chin up. "I don't eat meat."

Jack blinked, then laughed out loud. "A little beggar with a picky streak? You won't touch meat?"

I laughed along, and the tears came up anyway.

"At my foster parents' place, even their dog, Buddy, felt bad about how hungry I was. He always left me half his food."

I all but thanked him out loud and called him my big brother.

With Buddy looking out for me, I finally stopped going hungry.

To pay him back, I scrubbed his bowl until it shone every single day.

The first meat I ever had was the bones my foster parents had chewed clean.

It tasted incredible, and I gnawed at them with grease all over my mouth.

Then my foster father smiled at me with his yellow teeth showing. "Good, isn't it? That's Buddy. We butchered him, and he came out to twenty pounds."

The meat in my mouth stuck in my throat.

I clawed at the back of my throat like something wild and threw up until nothing came but bile.

When I finished the story, I pushed the plate away like it was nothing. "After that, no matter how much meat I could get, I never touched it again. I quit."

Jack stared at the rib, and his throat moved. "And then what?"

"And then." I propped my chin on my hand and kept it light.

"That night my foster father came into the sheep pen in the dark to get my clothes off, and I was quick, so I swung a rake and split his head open.

"He was furious and said he'd strangle me, so I went out through the hole Buddy had dug before he was gone.

"Buddy saved my life one more time."

I said it like it was nothing, and Jack's eyes went red at the rims.

He waved the server over. "Take the meat dishes away and bring vegetables."

The server looked lost, and Jack snapped at him. "What are you waiting on? Can't you see how hungry she is?"

I ate until I was full, then rubbed my round stomach and burped.

On the way out, I called the server back. "Don't throw the meat away. Box it up for me to take home."

Jack's sympathy turned into suspicion in one second, and he looked at the camera with contempt.

"There it is. She couldn't hold the act. Finishes a sob story, says she doesn't eat meat, and then boxes it all up. Little liar."

I let it go past me and got every last scrap of meat into the containers.

After the meal, Jack insisted on filming at my place.

We pulled up at a bleak landfill with a burned-out shell of a shack in the middle of it and early winter snow still on the roof.

That was my home.

I had barely gotten out of the car when a student I sponsored called me.

"Sophia, I got the money. It really was too much. Do you have enough for yourself?"

I thumped my chest and pitched my voice high. "I'm rich, kid. I'm the Foster heiress. I live in a big house, I drive a convertible, and I eat like a queen. Don't worry about me."

Jack had no idea what was going on, and he looked around the reeking landfill with his nose pinched shut.

"This big house of yours. It isn't this dump, is it?"

"Tell me it isn't big."

He kicked my trash tricycle. "And this is the convertible?"

"Never sits in traffic, and it's good for the planet."

He curled his lip. "The eating like a queen part is true enough. Spoiled food out of a can that a dog would walk away from."

I came right back at him. "Clean your plate. Everybody has a duty."

He made a noise. "All pride, no sense."

He didn't say another word until he saw the transfer on my phone.

Every dollar of the two hundred dollars he had sent me had gone straight to that student.