Chapter 3

Mom came out, looking absolutely haggard, her face drained of all color. She spotted the flowers lying on the floor.

Mom froze for a second, then jumped back like she'd been stung by a scorpion. Her expression turned into one of pure horror and revulsion.

In the next instant, she brought her foot down, kicking the glass bottle over with a sharp force.

With a loud crash, the vase shattered all over the floor.

Shards of glass flew in every direction; one sharp piece whipped past Darcy's cheek, leaving behind a fiery sting that made her gasp.

"Get out!" Mom finally saw me and snapped, her voice ragged and on the edge of hysteria. "Take that disgusting stink with you and get out."

Her voice was sharp, venomous with hatred. Colin and Tyne heard the chaos and bolted upstairs.

The scene that greeted them was total carnage—broken glass everywhere, I gripping my face, and Mom so shattered she looked ready to lose it completely.

Tyne darted over, barely catching Mom before she collapsed. "Mandy, what's going on? You're freaking me out."

Colin stormed in, his face twisted with rage as he yelled at me. "Not again. What did you do to her now?"

"I swear, I didn't— I just," I blurted out, panic rising in my voice.

"Lock her in her room. She doesn't leave until I say so." Colin didn't even bother listening to my side—he just snapped and shouted me down before I could say another word.

The two maids rushed over, one on each side, grabbing my arms and dragging me back to my room.

The door slammed shut behind me with a loud bang.

Clutching my bleeding cheek, I slumped down against the cold door, sliding to the floor as all strength left my legs.

I couldn't hold it in anymore—the tears just burst out, streaming down my face.

It finally hit me. As long as I was alive, my mom would never stop suffering.

Dad's calls were like a death sentence—he'd ring every single day, never letting up.

He didn't even bother pretending to be a loving Dad anymore; his voice was all greed and impatience.

Dad said to me,"Is there anything valuable in the house? Has Tyne got a safe or anything?"

"I told you to mess with her—did you do it yet? The moment she goes totally crazy, we've got a reason to demand cash."

I clutched that old phone, my throat tight like I'd swallowed a stone. "No!" I shouted, voice shaking.

For the very first time, I stood my ground and refused him. 'I don't want to hurt her. I can't do it—I just can't hurt my mom.'

There was a long, heavy silence on the other end before he burst out, his words like poison. "You ungrateful little punk! Think you're tough now, huh? Just like that slut Mandy—filthy through and through."

I slammed the phone down, fists clenched and face burning with rage. I hated my Dad.

Home felt suffocating, like the air itself was crushing me.

Colin's company tanked thanks to me—the stocks crashed and now his whole business was hanging by a thread.

Every night he came home, his face was so dark it looked like a storm cloud ready to burst.

At first Tyne just glared at me like she couldn't stand the sight of me, but now her stare was pure hatred.

I felt like some kind of curse—like I was the jinx dragging everyone down.

It was late at night when I crept out of my room to find some water, moving quietly through the dark hallway.

The study door was left slightly open, and from behind it, I could hear Tyne's choked sobs and her heated argument with Colin.

Tyne said, "Why the hell do we keep that damned child here? Why can't we just get rid of her?"

"Colin, tell me! Doesn't seeing her bring back every bit of agony Mom's had to endure?"

Tyne sounded absolutely broken, her pain spilling out with every word.

I froze, pressing myself against the wall outside the door, barely daring to breathe.

Then I heard Colin let out a long, weary sigh. "Tyne, calm down. She's a victim too."

"But as long as she's alive, Mom will never truly heal," Tyne replied.

"I know." Even Colin sounded completely defeated.

My heart chilled, inch by inch, until all that was left inside me was numbness. 'So this is it—just by being alive, I'm the one hurting my mom the most.'

That night, I couldn't sleep a wink. I could hear more noises drifting out from Mom's bedroom.

This time, it wasn't her usual nightmare cries—she was having a hushed conversation with some woman I'd never heard before.

That lady had to be Mom's therapist. I heard Mom inside, crying her heart out, totally falling apart.

Her voice was dripping with desperation—every word stabbed straight into my heart.

Mom said, "I can't take it anymore."