Chapter 2

"If you dare to leave, don't you ever come back!" my mom screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing down the hallway.

I just kept walking, acting like I didn't hear a word she said.

I ended up crashing on a park bench near the police station. The next day, I started hustling for odd jobs. Thanks to my previous life experience, I managed to scrape together 30 bucks before I starved.

With that 30 bucks, I kicked off my side hustle. Whether it was delivering food, washing dishes, handing out flyers, or scavenging for scrap, if there was money to be made, I was in.

Finally, just before school started, I'd saved up enough for tuition and a bus ticket.

When I arrived at college all alone for registration, the first person I saw in the dorm was Kelly.

When Kelly spotted me, a flash of surprise flickered in her eyes. She claimed my bed immediately and announced, "I'm sleeping here. Feels breezy."

My dad, busy hauling in Kelly's oversized suitcase, turned to see me. He frowned and asked, "Why are you here?"

I kept quiet, and he didn't bother asking again. He just bent down, rolled up my thin sheets, moved them aside, and set up Kelly's bedding like it was routine.

On his way out, he ordered me without a second thought, "Keep an eye on things. Don't mess with Kelly's stuff."

He didn't even notice how flimsy and cheap my sheets were.

Or maybe he did, but just didn't give a damn.

I made my bed, grabbed some food at the cafeteria, and when I got back, Kelly was holding court over my bedding.

She exclaimed, "Wow, what era are these sheets even from?" She pinched the corner of my sheet with her pale fingertips, sending her roommates into fits of laughter.

With a little tug, she knocked over the water cup I'd left at the head of the bed, and it fell to the floor.

Seeing me walk in, Kelly said, "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to do that—let me pick it up for you."

She crouched down, scrambling to pick up the cup, but she managed to slice her hand on the broken glass—blood just started pouring out.

Just then, my mom entered. She took one look at Kelly's bloody hand and, without missing a beat, threw herself protectively in front of her.

She jabbed a finger right in my face and snapped, "You seriously wanna make a big deal over a crappy cup? Lily, you're just cruel."

She didn't care what really happened—not even interested in the truth. As long as I was around, everything was automatically my fault.

Kelly said, "Lily, I swear I didn't mean it. Please don't be mad, okay? I'll make it up to you, alright?"

I couldn't help but let out a cold, mocking laugh. I said, "Don't bother. Like I'd ever dare ask you for anything."

My mom snapped, "Lily, what's with your attitude? Kelly's hand is bleeding—what do you want, a trophy?"

I shot back, "Oh, guess I was just being a bad sister, huh? Should've put my cup in a safe so she wouldn't have a meltdown.

"Maybe next time I'll train my stuff not to go rogue and hurt some innocent bystander."

My mom's face darkened, her lips curling as she spat, "Drop the attitude."

Then she slapped me hard across the face.

My head jerked sideways, a sharp, burning pain flaring up on my cheek.

Kelly, eyes red with tears, grabbed my mom's arm and pleaded, "It's all my fault, please don't blame Lily."

My mom snapped, "Quiet. I wanna see what she is up to now—think you can just go against me?"

She grabbed my ear, hauling me closer as she demanded, "Speak up. What's your problem? Already fuming over a couple of words? Apologize to Kelly, and wipe that sour look off your face."

My eyes dimmed, and when I spoke again, my voice was steady and cold.

I murmured, "It's my fault, blame me for leaving the cup on the bed.

"Sorry. I'll be more careful next time."

The roommates were giving me weird looks, totally thrown off by my response.

My mom and Kelly looked super uncomfortable too, clearly not knowing how to handle it.

They both wanted to say something, but just couldn't find the words.

I had zero interest in getting into it with them, so I just picked up the broken glass, tidied up, and walked straight out of the dorm. The afternoon was perfect for my side hustle—I wasn't about to let it slip by.

Out on the tree-lined path right outside campus, I set up a stand and got my stall ready. I grabbed my battered vocab book, flipping through it between customers.

Money and grades—that was all I ever cared about.

I didn't need their love, but I sure as hell needed to survive on my own.