Chapter 3

Mary watched Mom's car leave the gated community, then went to my bedroom. She took a key from her pocket and unlocked the door.

Standing in the doorway, she saw me curled up on the bed, with only the back of my head and a sliver of one arm visible. The curtains were drawn, leaving the room dim.

Mary covered her nose and stepped back. "What's that awful smell? You little brat, did you use the bathroom in here? You're not coming out for the next few days, understand? If your mom sees you like this, I'll beat you to death."

I didn't move. Mary stared at me for two seconds and cursed. "Playing dead, are you? Fine. Keep it up."

She walked out and slammed the door behind her. The key slid into the lock with a click. She locked it again.

When Mom came back with Sophie, they were carrying shopping bags of all sizes. Sophie wore a glittering hair clip and a brand-new pair of little leather shoes. Mom had a relaxed smile on her face, one I hadn't seen in a long time.

"Did Emily come out?" Mom asked.

Mary poked her head out of the kitchen, her smile stiffening for a moment. "Not yet. She's stubborn. I've called her several times, but she won't answer."

Mom's smile faded, and her brow furrowed. "Is she still throwing a tantrum?"

Just then, the doorbell rang. Mary went to answer it. A man stood outside holding a pink cake box. It was Dad.

I froze. I hadn't seen Dad in so, so long. Since Mom and Dad separated, I'd rarely seen him. Whenever he came over, Mom would fight with him. After a while, he came less and less often, until I almost forgot what he looked like.

Excited, I drifted toward him and threw my arms open, trying to hug him. "Dad."

My hands passed right through his body. I'd forgotten that Dad couldn't see me.

He walked into the living room and looked around. "Where's Emily?"

Mom's face darkened. "What are you doing here?"

"It's Emily's birthday today. Did you celebrate with her?" Dad asked.

Mom fell silent. She'd forgotten. But she didn't want to admit she was wrong in front of Dad.

"Emily's in her room. She locked herself in," Mom answered.

"I raised such a fine daughter. She takes after you," Mom shot back.

Dad's expression changed. "What did you say?"

Mom didn't notice his reaction. She sneered, "I said she takes after you. She lies and uses every cheap trick to get attention."

Dad interrupted, his voice already trembling. "You said Emily locked herself in her room? How long has she been in there?"

Mom hesitated. "Since last night. What about it? She's throwing a tantrum on her own..."

Dad exploded. "A whole day and night? Linda, are you saying a five-year-old locked herself in her room? She hasn't eaten or had anything to drink, and she hasn't come out once, yet you're out shopping with Sophie?"

His fury shook Mom. Her lips moved. "She won't come out."

"She's five. What does she know?" Dad roared.

He threw the cake box onto the floor, turned, and charged toward my room. He kicked hard at the lock. The door shook with a loud bang, but the lock held. He kicked it again. The doorframe cracked.

Mary hurried over to stop him. "Sir, please don't kick the door. Emily's only throwing a tantrum."

Dad turned to her, his eyes frighteningly red. "Get out of my way."

Mary tried to block him again, but Dad kicked her and sent her crashing into the wall.

"Have you lost your mind?" Mom screamed.

Dad ignored her and kicked a third time. The lock broke off completely, and the door slammed against the wall.