Chapter 2

Before my hand could even touch Emmy, Richard drove a kick into my stomach. "Get the hell away from her! Don't touch my daughter with your filthy hands!" The blow sent me sprawling into the mud, my stomach twisting so violently I broke out in cold sweat.

Grace wrapped herself around Richard's arm and looked down at me, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Oh, Rick, don't be so harsh. Laura is pitiful too. She got played for five years like a fool. Anyone would crack."

"But Laura, this is karma. If you'd just divorced him cleanly back then instead of refusing to let go, Emmy would've never needed to come up with something like this to get back at you."

I dragged myself out of the mud and pointed at that shameless couple, then at Emmy. "Karma? I raised her all by myself. Even after the divorce, when I left with nothing, the only thing I fought for was her custody. And this is how she repays me? By teaming up with you two to destroy me?"

Emmy cut me off impatiently. "Alright, enough with the tragic-mom act. Dad had money, and you still fought for custody. You just wanted me to starve with you. I started hating you the day the judge awarded you custody. Faking sick for these five years was meant to bleed you dry, so you wouldn't have the time or energy to bother Dad and Aunt Grace."

"Now that you've found out, this whole thing isn't fun anymore anyway."

Emmy walked over and kicked the delivery bag with disgust. "What is this trash? Takeout? That's filthy." Then she stomped on it hard, grinding the food inside into mush. "Take your garbage and get lost. Don't show your face in front of me again. Just looking at that sallow face of yours makes me sick."

I stared at the ruined food on the ground. That was the meal I'd protected with my life on the way here. In that moment, something inside me shattered for good.

I wiped the rain and tears from my face and looked at the daughter I'd loved with my whole life. Then I laughed, laughing like I'd finally gone mad.

"Good. Great." I looked straight at Emmy. "Since you're not sick, forget about my kidney. And as for my house and my money, you won't get a single cent."

Richard looked like he'd just heard the world's funniest joke. "Your money? The cash from selling your house wouldn't even buy my wife a handbag. Get lost already. Don't dirty my doorstep."

I pulled myself up and stumbled away. Behind me, Emmy's voice rang out, sharp and mocking. "Please. Who do you think you're scaring? Give it three days. This old mutt will come crawling back, crying and begging me to forgive her. That's just how pathetic people like her are."

I don't know how I made it back to that dark, damp rental room. The walls still held the pictures Emmy drew as a child, her crooked handwriting scrawled across them: [Mom, you've worked so hard. I love you.] Looking at them now, the whole thing felt like a sick joke.

I ripped every picture off the wall and tore them to pieces.

My phone kept ringing. It was the agent handling the sale of my house. "Laura, the buyer's pressing to finish the transfer. About tomorrow morning..."

I took a deep breath, my voice cold as ice. "I'm not selling it."

"What? Laura, but the penalty for backing out is..."

"I said I'm not selling it! I don't care if I have to pay the penalty. I'm not selling my house!"

After I hung up, I collapsed onto the floor. These past five years, I'd buried myself in debt paying for Emmy's so-called treatment. The house had been my last way out. I'd planned to sell it, get the surgery done, and die if I had to, as long as she lived.

But now? Those animals didn't deserve a damn thing.

I pulled out my phone and gathered every medical record, payment slip, and photo I'd saved while trying to raise money, including the pictures of Emmy pretending to be half-dead in a hospital bed. Then I opened my delivery app and pulled up the record for the order I'd just delivered to Riverside.

During the argument at the door, I'd accidentally hit record. Even with the pounding rain, Emmy's words - "So what if I lied to you?" and "like a dog" - came through loud and clear.

My hands shook as I sorted everything out. They wanted me dead? Fine. Then we'd all go to hell together.