Chapter 1 · Price Tags On Everything, Even Me

Chapter 1

Everything in my house came with a price tag for me.

It cost me fifty cents for a glass of juice and a buck for a shower.

On my birthday, I pulled out the coins I saved from collecting bottles.

"Mom, I want to buy a steak. Is one buck enough?" I asked.

Mom frowned, replying, "It costs two bucks. If you don't have enough, then go hungry. It's to toughen you up."

So I went hungry and spent my only dollar to watch ten minutes of cartoons on Dad's phone.

But then, a payment notification popped up on the screen.

It was a transfer of 3 grand, with memo: [Pocket money for Lily, our precious girl.]

It turned out the price tags were only for me.

That morning, I left the house alone.

A man came up to me and asked if I wanted some candy.

I nervously asked, "How much does the candy cost?"

He looked surprised for a moment, then said, "It's free."

I took the candy. And without hesitation, I got into that van.

*****

"Does it cost money to ride in the van?" I asked, gripping the candy nervously. "I used the dollar I earned from selling bottles to watch cartoons."

The man with the scar, Gary Simons, grinned.

"No charge. Everything's free, kid. I'm taking you to a place where meals and a bed are all on the house," he said.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you going to sell me to someone so I can be their daughter?" I asked.

Gary grinned and replied, "Yeah, something like that. We're getting you a new family."

My eyes lit up.

"So... in my new home, do I have to pay for water?" I asked.

Gary paused, surprised. "You pay for water at home?"

"Yeah," I nodded seriously.

"Cold water is 20 cents, warm water is 30 cents, and juice is 50 cents," I said.

"Shit," Gary muttered. "I've been in this business for years, and I've never met anyone stingier than your parents. Are they the reincarnation of Scrooge or something?"

I had no clue who Scrooge was.

All I knew was that Dad, Richard Shaw, was the CEO of a publicly traded company.

He was crazy generous; he'd donate millions every time.

I leaned against the cold, hard metal side of the van, watching home fade farther and farther into the distance.

*****

At the Shaw manor, a fancy breakfast was laid out on the table.

Lily Evans, my parents' adopted daughter, sat at the head of the table.

My mom, Helen Shaw, smiled as she served Lily a bowl of soup.

Richard was reading the newspaper.

"Lily, it's time to renew your piano lessons for this semester, right? I'll have my secretary send over fifteen thousand in a bit," Richard said.

"Thanks, Dad," Lily replied.

Lily beamed, her smile bright and sweet.

She turned and glanced at the empty chair beside her.

That used to be my seat.

I sat there all the time, watching them eat.

If I ever wanted a bite, I had to pay up.

"Where's Stella?" Lily asked, feigning surprise. "She's almost late for school. Is she throwing a tantrum again?"

Helen frowned.

Normally, by this time, I had already polished everyone's shoes and mopped the floor so I could afford breakfast.

Helen put down her spoon, looking annoyed.

"Just because I didn't let her have steak? She's got the nerve to give me attitude now?" Helen said.

Richard snorted and flipped to the next page of his newspaper.

"She's just spoiled. Let her skip a couple of meals; she'll learn her lesson. Go fetch her and bring her here, or breakfast costs double today," he said.

Grace Wilde, the housekeeper, soon came back holding a tablet, looking uneasy.

"Mr. and Mrs. Shaw... you might want to see this," she said.

Richard took the tablet and watched the footage on the screen.

There, a small figure with a worn-out backpack was seen leaving through the manor gates.

Helen smacked the table.

She said, "Unbelievable. She actually dared to run away from home?

"How much cash could she possibly have? Where does she think she's going?"

Richard's expression darkened as he turned off the monitor.

He said, "No need to look for her.

"She's got no money and no way to survive on her own. Let her go hungry for a day, and she'll come crawling back, crying, begging us to take her in.

"When she does, if she wants to come home, she'll have to pay three thousand just to walk through the door."

Chapter 1

Everything in my house came with a price tag for me.

It cost me fifty cents for a glass of juice and a buck for a shower.

On my birthday, I pulled out the coins I saved from collecting bottles.

"Mom, I want to buy a steak. Is one buck enough?" I asked.

Mom frowned, replying, "It costs two bucks. If you don't have enough, then go hungry. It's to toughen you up."

So I went hungry and spent my only dollar to watch ten minutes of cartoons on Dad's phone.

But then, a payment notification popped up on the screen.

It was a transfer of 3 grand, with memo: [Pocket money for Lily, our precious girl.]

It turned out the price tags were only for me.

That morning, I left the house alone.

A man came up to me and asked if I wanted some candy.

I nervously asked, "How much does the candy cost?"

He looked surprised for a moment, then said, "It's free."

I took the candy. And without hesitation, I got into that van.

*****

"Does it cost money to ride in the van?" I asked, gripping the candy nervously. "I used the dollar I earned from selling bottles to watch cartoons."

The man with the scar, Gary Simons, grinned.

"No charge. Everything's free, kid. I'm taking you to a place where meals and a bed are all on the house," he said.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you going to sell me to someone so I can be their daughter?" I asked.

Gary grinned and replied, "Yeah, something like that. We're getting you a new family."

My eyes lit up.

"So... in my new home, do I have to pay for water?" I asked.

Gary paused, surprised. "You pay for water at home?"

"Yeah," I nodded seriously.

"Cold water is 20 cents, warm water is 30 cents, and juice is 50 cents," I said.

"Shit," Gary muttered. "I've been in this business for years, and I've never met anyone stingier than your parents. Are they the reincarnation of Scrooge or something?"

I had no clue who Scrooge was.

All I knew was that Dad, Richard Shaw, was the CEO of a publicly traded company.

He was crazy generous; he'd donate millions every time.

I leaned against the cold, hard metal side of the van, watching home fade farther and farther into the distance.

*****

At the Shaw manor, a fancy breakfast was laid out on the table.

Lily Evans, my parents' adopted daughter, sat at the head of the table.

My mom, Helen Shaw, smiled as she served Lily a bowl of soup.

Richard was reading the newspaper.

"Lily, it's time to renew your piano lessons for this semester, right? I'll have my secretary send over fifteen thousand in a bit," Richard said.

"Thanks, Dad," Lily replied.

Lily beamed, her smile bright and sweet.

She turned and glanced at the empty chair beside her.

That used to be my seat.

I sat there all the time, watching them eat.

If I ever wanted a bite, I had to pay up.

"Where's Stella?" Lily asked, feigning surprise. "She's almost late for school. Is she throwing a tantrum again?"

Helen frowned.

Normally, by this time, I had already polished everyone's shoes and mopped the floor so I could afford breakfast.

Helen put down her spoon, looking annoyed.

"Just because I didn't let her have steak? She's got the nerve to give me attitude now?" Helen said.

Richard snorted and flipped to the next page of his newspaper.

"She's just spoiled. Let her skip a couple of meals; she'll learn her lesson. Go fetch her and bring her here, or breakfast costs double today," he said.

Grace Wilde, the housekeeper, soon came back holding a tablet, looking uneasy.

"Mr. and Mrs. Shaw... you might want to see this," she said.

Richard took the tablet and watched the footage on the screen.

There, a small figure with a worn-out backpack was seen leaving through the manor gates.

Helen smacked the table.

She said, "Unbelievable. She actually dared to run away from home?

"How much cash could she possibly have? Where does she think she's going?"

Richard's expression darkened as he turned off the monitor.

He said, "No need to look for her.

"She's got no money and no way to survive on her own. Let her go hungry for a day, and she'll come crawling back, crying, begging us to take her in.

"When she does, if she wants to come home, she'll have to pay three thousand just to walk through the door."