Chapter 4
My dad stared at me, his eyes cold as ice, and said, "Serves him right. And you too."
Right then, I realized I didn't love my dad anymore.
My foster dad spent years locked up in prison.
All those years, I moved back into the storage room.
I barely spoke to my dad anymore.
Grandma and Ryan kept hurling their nasty words at me, day in and day out.
Suddenly, my dad slammed his suitcase down on the floor with a loud bang.
He roared, "Enough."
When Dad exploded in anger, it wasn't Grandma and Ryan who were caught off guard, but I was also left speechless.
Dad had heard all those awful things before.
But he always acted like he didn't care, never once showing he was upset.
He wasn't like Grandma, who'd always yell and curse at me.
But the cold, impatient look he always gave me made it clear how he felt about me.
He always looked at me like I was a nuisance, never once defending me.
But today, his reaction was totally out of character.
Maybe it was because I'd been missing for almost two weeks now.
Maybe, finally, he was starting to sense that something was off.
Grandma, instantly losing her temper at his shout, snapped, "What's that supposed to mean? She can do whatever she wants, but we're not allowed to say a word about it?"
For the first time, Dad fixed Grandma with a hard glare. "What exactly has Emily done?
"Go ahead, tell me, what did she do? Did you actually see it with your own eyes, huh?"
Grandma flinched, too scared to say a word.
Dad was always known for being the most filial son; he'd never lost his temper in front of Grandma like this before.
Ryan was also startled, keeping his head down and not daring to say a word.
With a dark look on his face, Dad headed straight into the storage room where I used to sleep.
The room was cold and dim, so he fumbled for the light switch and turned it on.
The tiny room was spotless, everything in perfect order.
The blanket was folded the way he remembered it before he left the country.
It suddenly hit him that during the nearly two weeks he'd been away, it looked like I hadn't come back at all.
Dad stood frozen in the doorway for a moment, then suddenly rushed in.
He pulled the curtains open, then yanked open my closet door.
Next, he opened the door to the small bathroom beside the room and looked inside the cabinet under the sink.
He searched every corner, as if hoping to find any trace of me.
He was sure I'd returned at some point. There was no way I could've left without leaving a single clue behind.
The last time he saw me was two weeks ago.
It was the day before Christmas Eve. I'd promised to go abroad with him.
That day, my dad did something he'd never done before. He bought me a brand-new outfit.
He said, "Emily, I have to go abroad for work during Christmas. Why don't you come with us?
"As father and daughter, maybe we can try to have a real conversation."
It was the first time he'd ever given me a gift, and the first time he'd ever tried to talk to me.
Under the indoor lights, I suddenly caught sight of the gray of his hair.
My dad was beginning to show his age.
We'd been at odds for so many years, but deep down, I still yearned for his affection.
My foster dad was about to be released from prison soon.
The last time I visited him, he said, "Sweetheart, your dad cares about you.
"He wants the best for you.
"A father and daughter should never hold grudges overnight. No matter what happens, you can always talk things through."
Staring at that strand of gray in my dad's hair, I finally nodded. "Okay."
That night, I snuck into my room and tried on the new outfit.
My dad didn't know my size, so it was a bit too small.
I sucked in my stomach and barely managed to squeeze into it.
When I stood in front of the mirror, I found myself smiling without realizing it.
This looked amazing,' I thought.
Clothes from Dad looked good on me.
But soon, Ryan called me out of my room.
He looked me up and down, his gaze as cold and poisonous as a snake's.
Suddenly, he gave a sly, chilling smile. "Emily, there's something I've always wanted to ask you."
For the first time, I didn't glare at him. Instead, I replied in a calm, gentle voice, "Go ahead."
Ryan stood at the top of the stairs, snickering. "Your foster dad is a single guy and never got married or had kids. Why would he take in a money drain like you?
"Come on, quit hiding it. Is that old man your sugar daddy or something? "
Rage surged through me as I shot him a frosty glare. "What did you say?"
Ryan snickered louder. "Come on, you two have been shacked up together for years.
"So, did you ever end up with his kid or what?
"Is your kid supposed to call that old geezer 'Dad' or 'Grandpa'?"
I was furious as I marched right up to him. "Ryan, apologize."
Ryan smirked at me, his grin getting wider as he laughed harder.
I grabbed his collar hard. "I said apologize."
My grandma had been standing behind us the whole time, watching.
When Ryan started saying those things and laughing, she couldn't hold back and chuckled along with him.
She ended up laughing along too.
As soon as I grabbed Ryan, she rushed over. "What are you doing? How dare you touch your brother? I'll beat you to death.
"Your brother didn't say anything wrong. Why are you freaking out?"
That was the last straw, and I lost it.
My head was buzzing, and when Grandma tried to pull me away, I shoved her hard.
I shouted, "Move. He owes me an apology today, and so do all of you."
All I wanted was a simple apology.
They could treat me like crap, but they had no right to drag my foster dad through the mud.
He wasn't my real family, but he spent seven years giving me everything he had, raising me like his own.
While we were scuffling, Grandma suddenly grabbed Ryan and yanked him hard.
And the two of them went tumbling down the stairs together.
At almost the same moment, my dad stormed in from the front door, his face twisted with rage.
Every inch of the house was carpeted.
I knew that if they fell down the stairs, they'd be fine.
So I didn't panic. Seeing my dad felt like grabbing onto a lifeline.
I walked down the stairs and said to my dad, "Dad, Ryan said I—"
Before I could finish my sentence, my dad slapped me hard across the face.